


Lying From You

by lowkey_savage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blaise Zabini is a mfb, Draco Malfoy is an asshole, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Dubious Consent, F/M, Harry Potter cares to much, Having way too much fun here, Heavy Angst, I'M LEAVING, I'm not even kidding guys, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oh God have mercy, Original Character(s), Pansy is sneaky af, Past Relationship(s), Poly, Polyamory, Sectumsempra bitches!, Self-Harm, Smoking, Smut, Swearing, Underage Drinking, You're gonna cry anyway, a couple of other things to that effect, a lot of smut, but not for long, but so am I for writing this, don't hate me, lots of swearing and cussing, or hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 79,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowkey_savage/pseuds/lowkey_savage
Summary: Draco just wants to make it through his sixth year but everything seems to be going wrong. Add Harry Potter to that and a cauldron full of cherry flavouredPepper-uppotion and you have a recipe for disaster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first drarry fic (on AO3). Thanks for clicking on this story but first, read the tags carefully. Done? Good. 
> 
> This book is going to be a lot to take in and I hope you're ready. I will put individual warnings before evey chapter just in case. Also, I currently have no beta so I take full responsibility for all mistakes that slipped past me. 
> 
> The title of this work is inspired by [the Linkin Park song ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1V4FLUOlMks) of the same name.  
> Lying from you: _"It's making up lies to make another person angry so that they don't want to be around you."_  
>  Mike Shinoda. 
> 
> This one is my baby and I poured all my heart into it. I hope you will come to see why I love it so much. It's cross posted on wattpad and FFN. 
> 
> Hit me up on twitter:[@flaming_quills](https://mobile.twitter.com/flaming_quills)  
> Started: 31/4/17  
> Completed:
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction and thus no profit is being made from it by the writer. All characters belong to J.K.Rowling as do the plot and any scenes familiar to those mentioned in the books and the film adaptations. 
> 
> Updated every Friday evening. 
> 
> With that, enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!
> 
> I look forward to hearing from you. 
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_I awake to see no one is free_  
_We're all fugitives_  
_Look at the way we live_  
_Down here_  
_Where I cannot sleep from fear, no_  
_I said which way do I turn?  
_ _Oh I forget everything I learn_

**Spies  
Coldplay**

**Word count: 3677**

The sounds of cheering floated from the castle to the Forbidden Forest in a miasma of excitement and anticipation as Draco Malfoy picked his way among gnarly roots and bush undergrowth of the forest. The moon was bright and it lit up his way so that he did not need to cast a lumos charm or carry a lamp. It was the Choosing Ceremony the sixth time over and frankly, the novelty had all but worn off. If Draco was being honest with himself, which he liked to think he often was, he didn't much care who got into what house. He had bigger things to worry about. 

He had no delusions about what was expected of him this year, the finer details had been glossed over by The Dark Lord who had left them to his 'young, ingenious' mind to overcome, but they were relying on him- Voldemort and his posse. If he failed... Draco cursed clenching his fists, there was no room for failure. Not anymore, not from his family. 

The silence had become too loud and the treacherous thoughts slunk back into his mind, he only hoped he would find the asphodel root before it was too late. 

Draco's blood froze in his veins when he heard a loud howl. Instinctively his face was upturned, his gaze searching for the moon which up until then had been lighting his path but had gone, for the most part, unnoticed. Full, he noted with a grimace. Just his luck. The howl had been far enough that if he turned back he could sprint to the castle and return barely scathed, but he had come this far and he would not turn back without getting what he came for. Besides, he wouldn't have a chance to do this later and the potion he was brewing was complex enough. Steeling himself against fear, he continued deeper into the forest trying his best to ignore the howling and the fact that it seemed to be getting closer each minute. 

"Finally," he muttered when he spotted the long slender leaves of the asphodel plant peeking from underneath the shadow of an oak tree. 

The moon chose that moment to emerge from behind a cloud, Draco shivered as his breath misted before him, it was cold for September. 

A twig snapped behind him and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. Upon examining his surroundings, he saw nothing. 'For God's sake, you're sixteen, not a first year girl, act like it!' he reprimanded himself as he dropped to his knees and began to uproot the plant, carefully. This was the only one he had spotted for kilometres and he wasn't sure he wanted to pilfer Snape's cupboard.

He wasn't ready for that. 

Once he had the plant in his possession, Draco stood, dusted off his trousers and set about making his way back to the castle. His blood froze when he heard a twig snap once more, he wasn't as startled this time though whether that had to do with the heavy panting he could hear or his previous reassurances, he had no idea. 

It was large, nearly half Draco's height on four legs, it's yellow eyes watched him menacingly as it stalked closer baring it's sharp canines which were dripping with spittle. Muscle rippled beneath beneath grey fur with each step it took and for a moment Draco felt the familiar sensation of fear- the real kind which he would never confess to having felt so many times before- slither though his veins. 

He got out his wand, slowly, and pointed it at the creature. 

It hesitated only for a moment but was not deterred by the sight of a eleven inch piece of wood. Fuck, he thought. He wanted to move but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own and anyway, he thought, what was the point if the beast would catch up to him, just like The Dark Lord would if he showed even the slightest signs of deviance? Focus, sometimes his mind ran too fast on its tracks, it made him want to claw at his temples and grind his teeth. The feeling of hopelessness had never been one he was familiar with. 

The werewolf's mouth hung open,  letting loose a growl just as Draco yelled, "Impedimentia" but even he knew it was too late as the monster lunged at him knocking them both to the ground. Draco landed on a sharp root and grunted as pain flashed beneath his eyelids. His wand flew out of his hands and landed somewhere to his left. He grit his teeth, this was not how the evening was supposed to go. 

Scrambling for his wand, he searched his mind for a spell that would be strong enough to halt a werewolf, there was something that his father had taught him during the summer holiday at the end of his fourth year hovering just at the fringes of his memory...

Sharp claws raked through his skin and Draco screamed, a piercing feral cry. Pain seared white hot beneath his skin, his arms thrashed wildly of their own accord. He had to get away, he had to get away before... 

"No," he whimpered as the creature stood above him. Had he not been fighting for his life, Draco would have been repulsed that the sound left his lips, but as it were, the creature was about to bite him and he could not -would not- allow that to happen. It bowed his head and he kicked and squirmed pushing at it with all his strength but the werewolf would not budge. Sharp canines lacerated his skin, sinking into his neck and a searing flash of pain was the last thing he felt before the darkness took him. 

{HPDM}

The Great Hall was a mass of shouts and yells as various students strove to hear and be heard above the noise of their companions who were struggling to catch up about the summer and what had happened over the long holiday. 

"What d'you reckon's going to happen this year then, Harry?" asked Ron above the noise as the new members of Gryffindor were welcomed with whoops and cheers of excitement. 

Harry sat opposite Ron and Hermione with various aromatic dishes between them, unable to resist the smile that found its way onto his face. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts if only to escape the Dursleys for a few months. The summer had seemed especially long and he would have contemplated finding his own way to the Burrow had Dumbledore not shown up on his doorstep and apparated him to Slughorn's residence. 

"Yeah, Harry," Dean said leaning forward so that a few loose threads of his scarf dipped into his bowl of curry which appeared to be making his eyes water. "Didn't catch you on the train, don't tell me you used the flying car again."

Harry laughed slightly, catching Ron's eye. 

"He wouldn't," his best friend said. "Not without me at least."

That earned a few laughs. 

"How did you get here?" asked Seamus now invested in the conversation as were a few others he could see. 

"Er..." said Harry trying to think fast. He couldn't say Dumbledore had whisked him off on an adventure to try and convince Slughorn to come and teach at Hogwarts before dropping him off at the Weasleys who had accompanied him to King's Cross Station where he had boarded the train but spent nearly three quarters of the ride spying on Malfoy and his friends. 

"Harry probably just needed some time away from all your badgering," Hermione said coming to his aid. 

Dean and Seamus didn't look convinced and he even heard someone say, "You mean your badgering" which he thought wasn't fair but a fifth year at their end of the table had come up with an interesting way to make his mashed potatoes change shape and that was enough to take the attention off him. 

"Thanks," he muttered to Hermione under his breath. "Not sure how I would have gotten off that one."

Hermione smiled. "No problem."

Ron cleared his throat puffing his chest out uppishly. "As I was saying," he said casting a reproachful glance in Hermione's direction to which he received an eye roll, "d'you think anything's going to happen this year?"

Harry had been so bored all summer he could do with some action, not that he was pining for it, as it did tend to come in the most dangerous and disastrous manner when it did. 

"I don't know," he said spooning some chicken stew. "I wasn't really expecting much..."

"Nonsense," said Ron at the same time as Hermione said, "Of course not." They both glanced at each other. 

"There's no use denying it, something's definitely going to happen, Hermione," he said in between bites of roast chicken. 

"Obviously," she said with the air of one educating a simple-minded child, "but it doesn't mean Harry has to get all excited especially now that Voldemort-" she was cut short by Ron's choking- "is gathering his forces."

"We need to keep an eye on Malfoy though," Ron said when he was done expelling bits of chicken that had snuck into his windpipe and Harry could not agree more. "Whatever he was doing at Borgin and Burkes-"

"Who was doing what at Borgin and Burkes?" asked Lavender Brown sidling up to Ron who did not seem to mind the attention, much to Hermione's chagrin. 

"Browsing for furniture," said Ron easily. 

"Ooh, I know that place," said Parvati Patil waving at her sister Padma Patil before turning to them. "They say the owners were one of You-Know-Who's supporters back in the day."

Ron regarded her disdainfully. "Really? They seemed rather pleasant when we stopped by..." and just like that Harry found himself falling into the rhythm of being back at Hogwarts, glad to be somewhere he could call home once more. 

{HPDM}

"I will not allow this to happen, something can be done, it is only a matter of having the right ingredients."

"Whether or not you will allow it, Severus, is if no consequence, what is done is done. The boy will need your support-"

"Surely you cannot be serious Albus, the boy is merely sixteen, he... he is not ready."

"Nothing can be done about that Minerva, lycanthropy is incurable as I am sure Severus is well aware."

A hiss. "I swore to protect the boy should-"

"Severus," warned Dumbledore

The room was silent and Draco suspected that they had realised he was no longer unconscious. Knowing there was no need to pretend any longer, he cracked his eyes open. The shutters had been drawn back and it took a while to adjust to the bright light streaming in from the window opposite him. He inhaled sharply, there was a pain in his left leg and his neck. 

"I'll get your pain tonic," Madam Pomfrey said clearly eager to exclude herself from the tension in the room. 

Dumbledore stood to his left watching him warily with McGonagall at his side- the only one whose worry was plain on her face- and Snape stood to his right his expression unreadable as always. 

"Mr. Malfoy," this was the Headmaster," how do you feel?"

"Like I've been trampled by a herd of hippogiffs, fallen off a fucking broom-"

"Language," reprimanded Snape. 

"-and been impaled by several needles in various places," he finished ignoring his godfather. 

"Well, the boy certainly has not lost the faculty of speech," the Transfigurations professor said fixing him with a glare that would cause most students to cower. Draco could barely bring himself to care. "I will leave this in your capable hands, Albus."

She swept out of the room just as Madam Pompfrey returned with a vial bearing a nasty green liquid. Draco's lips immediately curled in displeasure, couldn't they bother to at least make them look stomachable? She uncorked the vial and pressed it to his lips so that he had no choice but to ingest the tonic. With the solemn looks on Snape and Dumbledore's faces, he wasn't about to make a fuss because of a mouthful of a pain-relieving potion. Once the medi-witch left the room, Dumbledore stepped forward. 

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked. 

"What day is it?" he asked hoping it was some sort of dream, perhaps he had just woken up from a coma, though even as he thought it he knew the idea was desperate and far-fetched. 

"Tuesday, 3rd of September 1996," replied Dumbledore. 

So he had been unconscious for a whole day? 

"You were found unconscious in the Forbidden Forest, having sustained heavy blood loss and various other injuries. Now, do care to explain exactly what you were doing in the Forbidden Forest during the start of term feast?" asked Severus his tone sharp. 

Draco wasn't sure a simple 'I was not hungry' would suffice. 

"I-" then he remembered the asphodel plant, Draco looked down at his clothes only to find he wasn't wearing his robes but a blue pair of linen pants and a similar shirt. He sincerely hoped Madam Pomfrey had not discovered it, or worse, taken it. He needed it and the potion... Merlin, it had been two days since...

His fingers were shaking so he clenched the heavy duvet and looked away. 

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard Dumbledore say but his voice was distorted. Snape too was saying something but he looked fuzzy, like an image viewed through sheer clothing; visible but not quite. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to calm down. He would be fine, as soon as he got out of the Hospital Wing, he would simply brew another potion maybe chase it down with some of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey for good measure and everything would return to normal. 

"Perhaps you should get, Poppy," the headmaster was saying but Draco protested. 

"No, I'm alright it's probably just the change..." His skin felt too hot, the fabric of his clothes scratching against too soft skin. He needed to get out of here. 

"The full moon isn't for a few weeks."

The full moon. He was a werewolf now, the pure blood status that had created a barrier between him and the other students was no more. If word got out about it... his parents would certainly disown him, he would have to register as a magical creature. The mere thought of the shame it would bring made Draco want to scream, he felt something well up within him, disgust tinged with something else he couldn't identify. He was worth less than filth now, was he still human? How was he expected to live with this?

"I have instructed Professor Snape as the head of your house and your godfather, to write to your parents about your unfortunate accident. In the mean time your classes will proceed as normal save every full moon when you will receive wolfsbane from Severus and be excused from your regular nightly rituals. You will not be alone in this Draco-" he cringed "-remember that."

He turned to Snape. "You can fix this, can't you?" he demanded. As an adept Potions master, Draco knew that if anyone was to find a cure it would be him. 

"I intend to try," he said shooting Dumbledore a pointed look. 

"Do not lead the boy on, Severus. I advise you to make your peace with this Mr. Malfoy as unfortunate an accident as it is, you may find that some good-"

"Good?" he demanded fingers clutching the blanked even harder until his knuckles were white. Had Dumbledore lost his marbles? Did he not know how werewolves were viewed in society? "Merlin, how the hell is this good? Do you know who my parents are? What they stand for? Do you think they will accept me when they see what I have become, this thing I have changed into?"

Draco blinked to keep back the tears that stung his eyes, begging for release. He had thought it would be enough, having the task The Dark Lord assigned to him hovering in his mind daily- the threat to kill his parents- he thought it would be enough to try and hate the headmaster so that it would be easier to do what he had to do. But the man had the nerve to try and console him, to be understanding after he had been turned into the very thing his parents reviled. 

"You need some rest, I will see you as soon as you leave the hospital wing. Good day Mr. Malfoy." He left. 

His godfather was not much better. His piercing gaze settled on Draco. "I expect a full account on what happened as soon as you leave this place. Be thankful that your father will be angry enough for the both of us."

Draco sunk back into the bed, he had never wished so hard to stop living. 

{HPDM}

It was two days later that Draco was finally allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, a windy Friday afternoon. Expectedly, news of his accident had spread fast and false, the rumours were as fictitious they went. 

"Got bit by a vampire, bloody git deserved it if you ask me."

"Snatched away by the centaurs, probably promised to set his father on them- it would annoy me."

"Trampled by a herd of hippogiffs, a good service to mankind in my opinion."

"Don't be stupid, James. He obviously run off with Pansy, apparently he's shagging her."

"What? I thought you said you heard from William who heard from Hannah who heard from Lavender who heard from Parvati who overheard Crabbe say he saw Malfoy and Zabini snogging."

"Blaise? Ugh, I can't stand that prick."

These weren't the worst of them, Pansy and Blaise had visited him twice and at his insistence had not spared him of the horrible rumours being spread about him. He didn't care what the other students thought but preferred to know what he was walking into. Most of them were Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who hated him the most, Draco could not bring himself to care even as they gossiped behind his back along the corridors, speaking a bit louder when he was near. They could never say anything he had not already thought of himself. 

He locked himself in the boys' dormitory -in his spirit of kindness, Dumbledore, the insufferable man, had excused Draco from classes until next week- and sank to the floor. He wished they would shut up, he wished he had ran instead of staring at that werewolf like a fool, he wished he didn't have to hear what the voices in his head had to say. A growl of frustration left his lips as he got to his feet, he had a potion to brew. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underage drinking.  
> And general drug abuse.  
> God, and it's only chapter 2. 
> 
> SOS.

_Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them,_  
_Sometimes I wonder why this is happening,  
_ _It's like nothing I can do will distract me._

**Figure .09  
Linkin Park **

**Word count: 4347**

Aside from having to hide from his friends, the weekend was otherwise uneventful, he managed to brew another batch successfully and was pleased to know he still had a few bottles of firewhiskey left, just enough to last until the next Hogsmeade weekend, if he was careful. He had also been pleased to find that the asphodel root had been left untouched by Madam Pomfrey when he received his clothing from her. 

An empty classroom had been put to use as his base of operations (Myrtle's lair was, of course, out of the question as the tales that were spread about it rendered it useless) and he had been quick to transfigure a used bottle of Firewhiskey into a cauldron. After that he had assembled various other necessities such as a motar, measuring jars, a large wooden spoon that looked ready to crumble to dust, all from the Potions classroom. 

Draco could admit he had hesitated at the thought of ferrying all those items across the corridors of Hogwarts in broad daylight but the conundrum had been speedily resolved when he realised a Disillusionment charm was all he needed and proceeded to levitate the items to a fifth floor classroom. Of course he'd had to pretend he was just holding his wand at the ready each time he came across someone, and who was to say it was unwarranted with all the people that clearly wanted him dead?

Once everything was set up nice and cosy in the classroom that bore a heavy air of disuse for at least a few months, Draco got to work, grinding the dried asphodel root (courtesy of a handy Dehydrating Charm) to a fine powder then mixing it with juice from a sopophorous bean and essence of sedge which he had acquired from an apothecary in Diagonal Alley. 

He recalled his trip to Borgin and Burkes and with it his mission. Draco bit back a curse as he began to stir the viscous purple liquid anti-clockwise. As much as he would just love to do it (complete the mission that is) at the moment, he rather thought it could wait a little longer. He needed this now. 

It took most of the day to brew the potion which sufficiently occupied his time and thoughts. When he stopped, it was only to creep back to the Slytherin dungeons where he devested himself and climbed into bed, his roommates none the wiser. 

Monday morning arrived too soon and Draco found himself awake hours before the sun was up with a sinking feeling in his stomach, a clear indication it would not be a good day. Getting out of bed was a difficult task and even then, he stumbled to the bathroom with two vials in hand, unable to think straight. He wanted to get out; out of his body which no longer felt like his own anymore, out of Hogwarts so he would not have to- he popped open the vial and drank from it before he could think any more. It was a bottle of firewhiskey which he had shrunk to the size of his finger. As long as he did not drink more than a pint, the burning liquor would continue to flow out of the vial, he need never return it to its original size. 

It was a clever bit of magic he'd learned over the summer when he had needed a distraction to keep him occupied and away from the lounge where The Dark Lord had seen it fit to conduct his business from. Draco took the bottle from his lips and leaned against the bathroom door with a sigh as the suppressant began to do its work. He would give it about five minutes then he would take his potion. But he didn't. He drank two more mouthfuls before he put the vial away then knocked back the potion immediately. 

{HPDM}

Harry Potter stumbled into the great hall about as gracefully as someone who'd forgotten to walk. His two best friends were already seated and having their lunch, he could see Ron's ginger hair amongst the other students at the Gryffindor table. Next to him was Hermione whose bushy hair somehow also stood out amongst the rest. 

Professor Slughorn had kept him back after their first potions lesson commenting on the abysmal introduction to his write-up on the Draught of Living Death potion the class would be brewing in a week's time. He'd rambled on about how he'd expected Harry Potter to be a more skilled at Potions and suggested that perhaps he should begin taking on extra work for practice if he intended to get a passing grade in his N.E.W.T.s. 

Harry had scoffed mentally at that, he may have been the Chosen One but unlike Hermoine he had a low tolerance for work, especially of the extra kind that came from people like Slughorn who he was beginning to see was not a very open-minded person. He'd politely informed the professor that he would study harder but could not take on any more work with his N.E.W.T.s coming up. He did, however need to leave otherwise he would miss lunch (and seeing as he'd already missed breakfast) he was not eager to remain hungry until evening. 

The professor had grudgingly let him leave. 

On his way to the great hall, Harry caught whispers about Malfoy's accident in the Forbidden Forest a few days ago. No one really knew much else except that he'd been found unconscious by Hagrid in the early hours of the morning (though what the gamekeeper had been doing in the forest at that hour was also unknown) and had been taken to the hospital wing. Of course, it didn't stop people from fabricating stories as to what happened, they were cruel and remorseless (as Malfoy often was) and Harry could admit to having listened in when Lavender Brown invited the entire common room to listen to her version of the 'Daily Dirt'. 

He was not, however, so naïve as to believe any of the stories and had been waiting, rather shamelessly, for someone to corner the Slytherin so they could get the truth out of him but he had not been seen for the entirety of the first week or the weekend. It did nothing to quell the rumours however, if anything it seemed to fuel them. Even now, Harry's eye involuntarily searched the Slytherin table for the boy but could not see him amongst his friends. 

It was odd in itself, Malfoy loved to make a show of everything from his importance right down to the fact that he had his admirers eating out of the palm of his hand. Usually it was quite irritating to watch but with his absence the Slytherin table seemed like a herd of lost sheep mourning the absence of its master; life went on but it was not the same. 

"Harry," Ron said above the noise of cutlery clinking against plates, dragging him out of his thoughts. He motioned for him to join them and Harry did so, instantly forgetting about Malfoy. 

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked with a frown. 

"Yeah, fine. Why?" he asked. 

"Well, for one you were just standing there glaring at the Slytherin table, not that they deserve any better," he added. Had he? Harry certainly hadn't noticed looking at the Slytherin table that long, he only recalled looking at it when he was trying to spot Malfoy and it had taken only a few moments to see he wasn't there. "And also, you seem a bit flustered."

"Er..." he began not really knowing what to say. 

 "He didn't get you again did he because I tell you that slimy git needs to be brought down a peg or two and I'd be happy to do it too," said Ron dropping his fork and rolling up his sleeves. 

Once again, Harry struggled to find a proper answer. He didn't want word of Malfoy 'getting him' to spread round the school and he was quite sure some fifth years down the table were listening over the sound of talking. He shot Ron a reproachful look but Ron had already returned to eating his beef stew furiously. 

"What did Slughorn want?" asked Hermoine shutting her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six. 

Harry was grateful for the change in topic and proceeded to tell them what Slughorn had wanted in between mouthfuls of fried rice and pumpkin juice because he certainly wasn't looking forward to a DADA lesson with Snape on a hungry stomach. "Professors these days," Ron uttered in disgust when Harry mentioned the extra work at the same time as Hermoine said, "You should have said yes, potions isn't exactly your best subject."

"I can get by," he said a little defensively. 

He hadn't exactly failed it in his O.W.Ls and Snape had been brutal to him during his lessons, perhaps with Slughorn he could hope to pass. Hermoine seemed to be thinking along the same lines seeing as she left the topic well enough alone. Ron let out a loud groan and stuffed all the food on his plate into his mouth earning a scowl from Hermoine and a curious look from Harry. 

"What?" he asked before Hermoine beat him to it. 

"I've just remembered, I haven't finished the essay Snape assigned on Countercurses."

"You've got to be joking," Hermoine exclaimed. "You said you'd finished it when I asked."

"Yeah, what've you been doing all weekend?" asked Harry. 

He immediately knew from the shade of red Ron's expression had turned that this was not a question he was comfortable answering. He swallowed past a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "I said 'more or less gotten it down' and besides, Seamus wanted a rematch, I couldn't exactly say no."

Hermoine rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

Ron stood up, forgetting all about dessert, and rushed out of the great hall. 

"Honestly, I don't know why I even bother with you two," she muttered. 

"I finished my essay long before time," Harry said thinking that was a bit not fair. 

"Only because I had to drag you to the library to help me research," she said pushing aside her plate and leaving the Great Hall as well. 

Harry sighed knowing she would come around. Being the top of the class- thus very organised- he could see how his and Ron's lack of attention to deadlines got on her nerves. She meant well, he knew that. The Great Hall had begun to empty as students languidly strode out in preparation for the afternoon classes.

Harry noticed a group of girls, who he was sure were from different houses, gathered at the Hufflepuff table where they alternated between hushed whispers and loud giggles. The Ravenclaws shot them disdainful looks over their books but did not choose to leave until they had finished their meal. There weren't that many Slytherins either but their table was by far the most silent after the Ravenclaw's save for a few murmurs. Harry found himself searching for the blonde again despite knowing that he would not be there. As expected, was no sign of him. An errant idea popped into his mind as he chased the last bits of stew on his plate: he could simply go over to the Slytherins to ask, but he quickly dismissed it. 

It was ludicrous. 

Not only would it be utterly suspicious (they were rivals after all not friends) but it was Draco Malfoy, a mean, spoiled, selfish, self-centred prat and he'd probably gone into the forest for something as stupid as a dare or to prove a point. So he finished up his lunch and rushed up to the Gryffindor common room to get a book he'd forgotten to pack. They had DADA with the Slytherins this year; the rumours would either be proven true or put to rest. 

When Harry walked into the classroom, he noted that there was a very Snape-ish touch to it. Seeing as the post was declared vacant each year, most of the students had grown accustomed to the ever changing decor (which was in this case charts, models and the like). However, this year Harry could swear the room had been repainted a dull green colour designed to put students in the foulest of moods that could be mastered. 

The layout was relatively similar to that of the Potions classroom only that the charts put up on the walls and the models that littered the classroom had more to do with the Dark Arts- and not necessarily the defense against it- rather than proper brewing and genus names of rare plants. 

Ron waved him over to the back of the classroom which was where they always sat and Harry just managed to settle down as the professor strode into the room shutting the doors with a loud bang. His long black robes billowed behind him as he walked to the front of the classroom. 

Snape looked round at the mass of Gryffindors and Slytherins with knit brows clearly conveying his distaste. "I had hoped to deal with a smaller class but seeing as this is not an elective, I will, for another year, have to contend with your bafoonery."

"More like we have to contend with his presence," muttered Ron pretending to open his book. 

Harry snickered. 

Hermione gave them a warning glare. 

"Did you finish the essay?" he asked keeping one eye on Snape. 

Ron nodded. "Yeah and just in the nick of time, I'd hate to think what-"

"Potter, Weasley!" snapped the greasy-haired professor. "It seems to me you find catching up on the summer's events a proper thing to do in my classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Several accusing glances were directed at them, surely they could wait until later into the term to start losing points for the house. 

"Each," added Snape with a nasty smile. 

Harry could have wrung his neck there and then but forced himself to calm down. From Ron's clenched jaw he saw he was not alone.

When Snape seemed satisfied that he had ruined the class for them, he returned to the rest of the students whom he addressed regarding the year's syllabus at which point Hermione began taking notes fervently and Ron's head sunk to his folded arms. 

Harry realised with trepidation that  his days of enjoying Defense Against the Dark Arts were numbered. 

{HPDM}

Draco had done his best to remain unseen for the better part of the day and for the most part it had worked, he'd skipped both breakfast and lunch in the great hall much to Pansy's dislike, she'd told him as much when she'd finally found him in the Quidditch pitch. She knew something had happened in the forest that he was keeping it to himself but she was too good of a friend to push him for answers. "Make no mistake, Draco, I expect you tell me sooner or later."

He'd simply nodded because how else would he get the stubborn girl to leave him alone? And leave him alone she did but Draco did not miss the flash of concern in her eyes and that was what pained him most, she shouldn't care, he didn't need her to care. It would only make everything that much harder. But that was not his main concern now, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape in a few minutes and the man had owled him- he'd actually written a letter-warning him not to miss his lesson as he would not be let off for it. Slytherin had the lesson with Gryffindor this year and knew for a fact the sanctimonious brats would take it upon themselves to make the lesson a long and tedious one. 

Well then, should they leave him no choice, he would not hesitate to hex them to the seventh circle. 

The class went silent when he walked in, not complete silence- that was reserved for the likes of Potter- but much worse, the sort of silence that brought out the murmurs and hushed whispers. But he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy which had to count for something so in a fashion that would impress even Lucuis Malfoy, he drew himself to his full height and walked to the side of the room occupied by Slytherins 'looking for all the world like he was navigating a dumpsite' Blaise would later tell him what with the way he'd wrinkled his nose at the Gryffindors. 

He took his place at an empty desk before catching a flash of green. So Potter was watching him then, for some reason the realisation brought him none of the satisfaction it would have just a year ago. He was suspicious, not that he'd ever given them any reason to think otherwise, the Chosen One lacked the ability to leave well enough alone. Draco took a deep breath just as Snape walked into the room effectively quelling any last minute gossip, he was glad to find that the combination of firewhiskey and the Draught of Peace (with a few enhancements of his own) had created a heavy sort of calm that clung to him like a wet cloak. 

He went through the motions of addressing the class about his expectations for the year, deducted a few points from Gryffindor as was customary then reattled off the syllabus from his head. 

"You may begin by handing in your essays," he said as he scribbled something on the chalkboard not even bothering to look in Draco's direction. 

As Draco had spent the entire first week in the Hospital Wing and the weekend getting drunk, he had no essay to present, so he merely fixed his gaze on the green grass of the Quidditch pitch, which was barely visible from where he sat, tapping his finger on the desk. 

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard Snape say after a moment and he certainly took his time tearing his gaze away from the window. 

"Mmm?"

"Your essay," he said pointedly. 

Draco inhaled, paused then said, "I don't have it."

"Where is it?" Snape asked his patience clearly wearing thin. People began to fidget. 

Draco felt a smirk lift the edges of his mouth. "Excuse me sir," he corrected, "I meant to say I didn't do it."

Snape glared at him and Draco resisted the urge to look away. He couldn't understand why he had spoken to him that way, usually he reserved the antagonism for less amiable teachers yet he could not bring himself to be sorry for it, the words had seemed to flow from his mouth unbidden. Perhaps it was a reaction to the bite affecting him in some unseen way. Or maybe he'd had too much. 

He could feel his heart pounding. Being disrespectful to Snape was known to be quite a rush. 

"Ten points from Slytherin," Snape declared. "And I expect to see you after the lesson."

Well, if they hadn't before, the other Slytherins hated him for sure. He felt like he could laugh but somehow he couldn't bring his muscles to do much more than twitch. 

{HPDM}

"This way," Snape said pointing him through to his private quarters. 

The lesson had ended five minutes ago and Snape had made a great show of gathering the pieces of parchment bearing the essays he had assigned until he was sure everyone was out of the class. 

Draco was not sure what was coming but he had a feeling it would not be good. 

Having been to Snape's quarters enough times prior, he stepped through the portrait hole after Snape murmured the password ('ad gloriam vola') and settled himself in the ratty blue armchair which was where he always sat when he came to see Snape. 

Once the door shut behind him the Potions master (Defense, now) rounded on him. 

"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed strings of greasy hair flying round his face. 

He debated telling Snape he was using way too much Sleakeazy's just to see his reaction. Maybe it would make him laugh. 

"No, just my human life," he responded instead and for a moment he thought he saw something soften in his godfather's eyes but he dismissed it as the effects of combining alcohol and a slightly modified (yet more potent) Draught of Peace. 

"Get up," the man said taking Draco by surprise. 

He rose a little unsteadily, something Snape seemed to notice and dissect with narrowed eyes. Without warning the man placed a hand on his shoulder and used another to direct his face so he could examine his eyes. For a moment Draco feared Snape would notice something was amiss- his father would hear about it for sure, his godfather would think he was doing the right thing, acting under his godson's best interests. 

"I'm not sure what exactly it is you're hoping to see-" began Draco thanking Merlin his voice did not waver but the professor did not let him get far. 

"What is it?" Snape demanded. 

Draco frowned. "Really, Severus, I don't know what-"

"What. Have. You. Been. Taking?" he demanded shaking him slightly with each word. 

His tone indicated he would not ask again. 

"Nothing," he said and Snape's eyes narrowed in obvious disbelief. "Except Pomfrey's pain relieving tonics which taste about as good as slime."

They were also mint flavored. 

Snape released him with a sharp jerk of his hand then but looked far from convinced and Draco knew he would have to be careful in the future if he wanted 'it' to escape his godfather's knowledge. After all, it wouldn't take long for an expert brewer to find out. 

He took Snape's turned back as an opportunity to collect himself stuffing his hands into his pockets so that his godfather would not see that they were shaking. Overall, the Draught of Peace was doing its work well enough. 

Expert brewing. 

It was a pity he had to keep it to himself. 

"Well, whatever that little display in my class was, I will not tolerate it," he said moving to his desk with a swish of his black robes. "Think about that before you speak the next time."

Draco dismissed it with a wave and moved to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. 

"If I remember correctly, you wanted to see me," he said. 

Snape nodded. 

"I have began work on the wolfsbane potion," he said and Draco's face was suddenly expressionless, a cold feeling spread through him. It could only mean he had not found a cure, not that he had been hoping much for it. "You will return here in two weeks to collect it then I will accompany you to the Forbidden Forest to oversee your... shift," he said the last word with no small measure of dislike. 

"Is that all?"

"No," Snape said ignoring his impudence if only because he knew it would infuriate him further. "I have written to your mother and father, they will be seeing you this weekend in the headmaster's office."

His blood run cold at that and his throat suddenly felt very dry. He opened his mouth to speak but the words escaped him. 

"I will take your quiescence as comprehension," he went on. "Be there by five."

Draco sat there unblinking for a moment before his lungs began to burn and he realised he was not been breathing. He could already see the scowl on his father's face... see his hands white with fury... hear his sharp words, how long would it be until the Dark Lord found out? What would he do to him then?

"Dumbledore wished me to inform you that you would not need to see him today. As it is, you may leave now."

"What about... The Dark Lord?" asked Draco swallowing past the lump that had risen in his throat. "Does he know?"

Snape crossed his fingers before him. "I intend to bring the matter to his attention as soon as possible."

Of course. It was better that way, wasn't it?

"I will do my best to soften the blow," Snape assured, "but I doubt he will very pleased."

Draco inhaled. 

As though a thought had just occurred to him, Snape said, "Stretch out your left arm."

Draco's head snapped up. Why should he? Snape already knew what he would see there, he'd been there when The Dark Lord had marked his newest followers, what did he need to see it again for?

The impatient glare he received made him do as Snape asked. 

A gasp escaped his lips. 

Nothing. 

His arm was as unblemished as it had been before he had been marked. Would this anger The Dark Lord? Would he insist on trying to mark Draco again? Would it work? He was glad to be free of the wretched thing (he had learned when they day neared that serving him was not as glamorous as he had made it out to be in his earlier years) but he couldn't help thinking of the implications it bore. 

One step forward, two steps back. 

"Hmm," was all his godfather said.

Draco however could still remember the pain that had coursed through his veins that day... the high cold laugh of The Dark Lord... his mother's shaken expression, how she had turned her head away because she could not bear to watch. How his father had not even deigned to show up. 

He got to his feet, somehow remembering to walk but he had hardly reached the door when Snape spoke. 

"I hope you are aware that you may speak to me, Draco," he said almost silently, in a rare moment of kindness. "In confidence. You can tell me anything."

And it was more than he could bear so he left without looking back. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to drug use. 
> 
> Share your thoughts!

_Where do we go nobody knows,_  
_I've got to say I'm on my way down,_  
_God give me style and give me grace,  
_ _God put a smile upon my face_

**God Put a Smile Upon Your Face  
Coldplay **

**Word count: 4487**

The rest of the week passed faster than Draco had hoped. The rumours died down- eventually, in part because his presence provided no fuel for them. Aside from the incident in Snape's classroom, he had been what one could almost label a model student. He remained silent during his classes, avoided Pansy and Zabini as much as he could during the day and locked himself in the boy's washroom to down more firewhiskey than he'd promised himself he would along with a variation on the Pepper-up potion that... well, helped him 'pepper up' when necessary (though this was reserved for the rare moments when he would need to seem normal, like this weekend).

It was a lot of work to brew too. 

On Friday evening, he stumbled into his dormitory dead tired and looking forward to a drink before he fell asleep only to find Blaise and Pansy waiting by his bed. His trunk lay open a mere three feet away and for a moment Draco's heart stopped; they could have spotted the vials hidden beneath his pyjamas, how could he be so careless? "This is the boys' dorm," was all he could think to say (at which Pansy snorted) but if they wanted him on unfamiliar ground this was it. 

Not so much their presence but what they might discover should his mask slip even for a second, they knew him best after all. 

They were not like Crabbe and Goyle who had been quick to distance themselves from him at the warning of their parents after the fiasco at the Ministry. Draco tried not to think about his father who had only managed to escape capture by a hair's breadth. There was nothing the head of the Malfoy house could do now. It was all up to Draco to restore his family's lost glory in the eyes of The Dark Lord. All he had to do was complete the one task... 

Anyway, Crabbe and Goyle had never truly known him and they had never been more than cronies who (he was still horrified to think) he'd kept around for their imposing build. Pansy on the other hand, although she was perhaps a little smitten with him and rather vain, was one of the most loyal people he had ever known. Zabini, he didn't know as well but the boy seemed to owe allegiance to none but himself which whilst being a dangerous characteristic was something Draco valued because one needed to be ready to do anything these days. 

Pansy hummed. She was dressed in a short grey skirt that he was certain was not school uniform and the first three buttons of her long sleeved white blouse were undone revealing the edge of her lacy black bra. "I hadn't noticed," she said as she gathered her inky black hair in a high ponytail and made herself comfortable on his bed. 

"We need to talk," Blaise said peeling himself from the bed poster. He looked as always: shirt untucked, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His dark hair framed his forehead falling into his eyes each time he bent forward. New haircut then. 

"We don't want you to think we're attacking you-" Pansy started her attention partially held by her manicured nails. 

"But that's what you're doing, isn't it?" said Draco. "Waiting to ambush me in my own room-"

"It's mine too, Theo's as well," interrupted Blaise earning a deadly look. 

"- _the_ room," he continued with a note of annoyance in his voice, "like I'm some sort of criminal."

"Draco please," Pansy said looking up from her nails unfazed by his outburst. "We're your friends for Merlin's sake."

"And you've been bloody avoiding us," Blaise said crossing his arms projecting the air of a displeased child. 

Draco glared at him. He hated it when they asked questions because his mind would give the real answer (which he'd try very hard to ignore) whilst his lips fabricated some revolting lie. He couldn't help but feel they deserved more- better- than him, his lies. Merlin, he hated not feeling like enough, he hated not knowing how to deal with feeling like he was worth no more than the dirt beneath their shoes. 

_For Merlin's sake! Can't you get through one stupid conversation?_

_Of course you can't you worthless piece of-_

"Well if I knew you'd be this clingy-" he spat to drown out the voice in his head. 

It was a lie, a stupid one at that but Draco had no intention of taking it back. 

Could you take back words?

He wouldn't know, he'd never tried. 

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare," Pansy warned the look on her face quite furious as strands of dark hair that had escaped from the bun framed her pale face. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way- he hadn't- his head was just too loud at the moment. "Don't you dare try to spin this on us, for once in your life grow up and face life as it is. You went into that forest, something happened, what?"

He was stunned for a moment but he recovered quickly. 

He wrinkled his nose at Pansy. How dare she tell him to grow up, hadn't that been what he'd done all summer? Hadn't he been forced to grow out of his childish behaviour fast right about the time The Dark Lord began living at the Manor? Each night had been a plague of endless nightmares knowing he was living under the same room as that... that nightmare. He couldn't sleep properly because he was constantly afraid the door to his room would swing open and The Dark Lord would inch in whispering words of dark magic...

Merlin, his dream had been shattered before his very eyes and there had been no one to help him put the pieces back together. 

He looked away so they would not see the lie in his eyes. "I got lost."

Blaise laughed mirthlessly. "Cut the crap, Draco. We've snuck down there dozens of times."

He could either continue to lie until he fabricated something believable or he could spare himself the trouble and tell them truth before hexes started flying. Rubbing his temples, he sat down on his spotless bed, beside Pansy, with a weary sigh. 

She folded her hands on her laps and waited.

The silence seemed to stretch on, coaxing the words out of his mouth. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. 

"I was taking a walk to clear my head," he said because no way in hell was he going to tell them he was experimenting highly addictive potions on himself. They knew the task that had been delegated to him by Voldermort so they had no reason to doubt him. "A werewolf appeared out of nowhere, next thing I know I'm waking up in the Hospital Wing."

"What are you saying?" Blaise asked deep brown eyes narrowed, brow creased. 

"What I'm _saying_ you bloody idiot," he said ripping off his scarf for them to see his neck. "Is that it attacked me. And bit me."

Pansy gasped. Blaise just watched him silently from behind his dark bangs, his face revealing nothing. Draco knew that expression, it was one of his, he remembered teaching it to Zabini back in fourth year when he'd had nothing to do but wish for Potter to lose the damn Tri-Wizard Tournament. He'd been so young and stupid then, so utterly clueless... but he wasn't about to berate himself for mistakes of the past. What use was there for it?

"Do your parents know?" Pansy asked. 

Draco swallowed giving her a silent nod. 

"When?" asked Blaise. 

"Tomorrow," he choked out. 

"Oh Draco," Pansy said pulling him into a tight hug, strands of her hair tickled the back of his neck. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I-" he searched for the right words. "I didn't know how," he finally said. 

The first true words he'd said in a while. He wondered if he would feel relieved if he wasn't already carrying around a burden. 

"Is that why you've been skipping meals and sleeping less?"

No. 

"Yes," he forced out. 

 "Is there... are you... Is there anything else bothering you?" she continued looking at him with so much concern he wanted to tell her the truth. 

 "No," he managed to choke out. 

His streak of honesty hadn't lasted long. 

Blaise still watched him carefully but Draco could care less, he didn't have an iota of proof, he should have known better than to use Draco's own glare on him in an attempt to squeeze something out of him. Pansy unwrapped her arms from his body and he seemed to recall having told her he didn't like hugs but he knew she was doing the only thing she thought would comfort him. 

"We're here for you." She saw the look of utter misery on his face and was unable to resist hugging him again. A second later, he felt Blaise join in. 

In that moment he wished he could feel something more than the need to rip out his own heart. 

{HPDM}

The next morning Draco woke with a pounding headache and cursed within the silence afforded him by the drapes around his bed. He'd had a restless sleep after having been awake most of the night. Drinking hadn't been an option, Blaise had an eye on him and was a notoriously light sleeper. Pansy may have been one of the most observant girls he knew but there were some things a bloke would notice faster. Like if he was drinking potent potions to the early morning hours and singing horrible renditions of muggle songs he'd heard during the long Summer holiday. 

He could never remember which, the words just seemed to flow from his mouth.  

It hadn't been easy but he had managed to acquire a few records of what he could only assume we're famous muggle artists. The likes of John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, Supertramp, Metric, Fallout Boy, Guided by Voices, Greenday, Nickelback were but a few names he had stashed in his room. His father did not know, no one knew, that he sometimes liked to play those records on a gramophone he'd discovered discarded in the attic. 

If he played them enough times he could even sing along. He found the lyrics strangely relatable. 

It was all part of something he liked to call 'The Cultural Rebellion', a way to feel in control of his life, even the smallest part because those songs were his; his father, The Dark Lord, the world,  could not take them from him and taint them. 

"I'll get through this year if it kills me," he told himself. 

Soon the pain returned to the forefront of his brain and he clutched at his head with a grimace. 

Grumbling to himself about finding a spell to fix headaches soon, he reached into his trunk and drew out two vials, one half full of a viscous turquoise liquid (Draught of Peace) and another three quarters full of a maroon-coloured liquid (Pepper-up). It took him a moment to work out the dosages while factoring in how long he wanted the effects to last before he decided on five sips of the Draught of Peace which would serve to calm him down and two of the Pepper-up to give his body some life because his parents would be most suspicious if he was too calm. 

He tucked the vials in the bottom of his trunk and in good time too because Blaise was pulling aside the drapes around his bed. "I see you're already up," he commented.  "Pansy wants us to have breakfast together."

Feeling the effects of the potions, he drawled. "Really, did she crawl into your bed to tell you that?"

Something flashed in Blaise eyes akin to excitement, he grinned. "Oh Draco, you know you're the only one to ever have that privilege."

Blaise didn't speak until they were seated across Pansy at the Slytherin table where she took it upon herself to remove the silencing charm Draco had cast, even then it was only to promise him that he would hex him blind after he enjoyed a plate of bacon and fried eggs. 

{HPDM}

Harry had been unable to look away- though in all honesty, so had everyone else- when the trio made their appearance. They certainly knew how to arrest everyone's attention by their mere presence. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy strolled into a silent hall and settled at the Slytherin table as though they owned the bloody building. 

However, it was Draco's presence that garnered attention most. Granted, the rumours of his nightly visits to the forest had died down but that was because he had hardly been seen around the school and even then he'd seemed oddly silent, reticent even, which was unnatural for him. Harry watched transfixed as Pansy cast a spell on Blaise who said something to Malfoy as he loaded breakfast onto his plate that made the blonde smirk. It was not the action that surprised Harry (he'd been on the receiving end of worse from Malfoy) but the lightness in his eyes which he had never actually seen, it was strangely... refreshing. 

He said something to the table that made the Slytherins in his vicinity burst into fits of laughter. Those that were not close enough to be privy to the joke looked up from their breakfast with envious eyes. It was as though the king had returned and the world- their world- was the brighter for it, each of them seemed to want to be a part of Malfoy's inner circle. 

The shepherd had returned to his lost sheep. 

Malfoy looked, up his eyes scanning the Great Hall and Harry knew what was coming but he could not look away even as Malfoy's gaze met his and the lightness in those grey eyes was instantly replaced with coldness. He looked away refusing to listen to any thoughts that popped his mind about that sudden change. It was Malfoy, the same look had probably been mirrored on his own face. 

"What is it?" asked Hermione following his gaze before quickly looking away. 

"I don't know," he said cutting Ron off midstream. "Something just seems different."

"With who? Malfoy?" Ron scoffed. "He got trampled by a herd of hippogiffs last week, of course something's different. Kind of deserved it, if you ask me."

"Ron," said Hermoine swatting his arm.  

"I'm just saying, he's a big prat and he got what was coming to him. Hope there's more where that came from," he said nastily. 

Knowing how much Ron had suffered at the Slytherin's hand, she let it go, what could be much worse than getting trumped by a herd of hippogriffs? Harry however, knew there was something more, something Malfoy was hiding and seeing as he may or may not be a death-eater (depending on whether you believed Hogwarts gossip or not), it couldn't be something good. 

There was also the fact that Hermione, Lupin and Mr. Weasley all seemed to believe that Voldemort would not induct an underage wizard into his circle of Death Eaters. But Harry knew otherwise and in that moment he wished he could write to Sirius- his advice would be welcome and he would most definitely agree with him- but Sirius was gone, killed by his own deranged cousin. Harry had lost the last remaining relative that didn't treat him like dirt. 

"Anyway," Hermoine said clearly trying to distract Harry from his musings which he let her do because he really didn't want to worry about this on such a good day. "Quidditch tryouts are coming up, how's practice going Ron?"

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and Harry had to suppress a smile. 

"Er... good. How... How did you-"

"Please Ron," she said with a haughty sniff, "no one simply forgets to complete Snape's homework."

"Oh," he said shifting uncomfortably. " Well, Harry's helping me so I suppose I'll do well enough."

"Speaking of which, we should get going if we want to be back in time to complete out homework," Harry said. 

Ron finished his breakfast before getting up from the table. "See you," he called to Hermoine. 

"Make sure you finish your homework," she called to Harry as he left then shook her head a small smile on her face. 

{HPDM}

As Draco had nothing else to do until five o'clock, he busied himself with completing his homework and catching up on the classes he had missed, Blaise and Pansy were more than happy to help though he suspected they just wanted to keep an eye on him. Just as well or he would have snuck off at the first opportunity, he had a couldron of Draught of Peace brewing up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom (yes, as much as he detested the place) and one of Pepper-up on the fifth floor, one could never be too careful he had always been told. 

After he had finished practicing Flitwick's assigned charms, completed two DADA essays (each a foot longer than the required length), double-checked his Arithmancy homework and corrected spelling errors in his History of Magic essay, Pansy insisted they plan something fun to do the next day. 

She was trying to distract him from the imminent meeting and he found himself grateful for it. 

"How about a swim?" she said. 

"Where, the Black Lake?" snorted Blaise and Draco agreed. 

There could be anything down there for all they knew. 

"Where else, we can't very well conjure up our own pool and Hogwarts doesn't have one."

The memory of the lazy summer days spent laying by the pool at Malfoy Manor returned to Draco. He could see Pansy swimming laps around the Olympic-sized pool claiming that she had to keep in shape, Blaise atop a fold-up chair dressed in swimming trunks reading some book or the other he'd nicked from the Malfoy Library and Draco himself content with swirling his feet in the water, never knowing, never appreciating how much he had in that moment. 

_"Come on, Blaise," Pansy called from the water as she placed her arms on the warm ground, resting her head on them, her hair framing her face like an impenetrable curtain. "The water is amazing."_

__

__

"No thank you," came the reply. 

She huffed. "I will remove you from that chair and dump you in the water if you don't look up from that book for a second."

He looked away for a second. 

"There, happy?"

She wasn't been. 

Pansy surfaced from the water in a wave of fury, droplets of water flowing from her body in rivulets as she stalked toward Blaise who had no knowledge of the danger that approached him like a dark cloud. She ripped the book from his grasp flicking droplets of water in her wake. Blaise's nose wrinkled. 

"I was reading that," he said pointedly. 

"Well, you can take a break now," she replied her hands resting on her hips. 

He looked up at her. "What do you suggest I do, take a swim?"

"Precisely."

"I don't know Pans," he responsed, as he had then, with a distant scowl on his face. 

Of course. 

Draco couldn't help himself. "I think it's a good idea, before it gets too cold."

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the warm afternoon sun glinted against the skin of his exposed arms, seeming to reflect the light and suck it in all at once. 

Blaise shot daggers at him. 

"I owe you a jinx for that _silencio_ earlier."

Draco coughed. "Assuming you could keep up," he said getting to his feet. 

He could hear Pansy's shouts of laughter as she followed behind Blaise who gave chase after Malfoy. They ran until their legs gave out and they collapsed in the grass their breath coming out in short quick puffs, content smiles on their faces. "This is nice," Pansy said. Blaise snorted but he had a small smile on his face too. "I don't want it to change, promise we'll stick together no matter what."

Draco's face fell as the unwanted feelings rushed back in. To Pansy's left, Blaise had sobered as well, all traces of laughter had disappeared from his face. 

"I thought we did that last year," he grumbled.

But Pansy had made up her mind. "Promise."

Blaise sighed but drew his wand and marked a cross above his clothing where his heart would be. _"Promitto maneat vobiscum in aeternam_ ," he said. 

Pansy did the same and they watched Draco expectantly. He took out his wand trying to stop his fingers from shaking, he gripped the wood hard and marked his heart with a cross as well. Everything would change, he had a feeling, and it would not be for the better. He would let himself be happy now though, because before long he would lose all reason to feel so. 

{HPDM}

Draco walked up the steps to Dumbledore's office at five to five that evening, no need angering his parents by arriving late, not that he was going to arrive early either, it would be unlike him. The statue guarding the headmaster's office slid past to admit him into the large office. The headmaster himself was seated at his desk pouring out cups of tea, Snape stood to his left looking very much like a stone statue. He recognised his father's long blonde hair and his mother's petite figure. They were seated facing Dumbledore with their backs to him. 

"Oh Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said when she saw him. The look in her eyes was not the one of horror which he had expected but one of worry and the fierce need to protect which only a mother could possess.

She embraced him deeply and Draco saw a muscle jump in his father's temple. 

He forced himself to break away from his mother. "Father," he said by way of greeting. The man regarded him with a cool gaze his expression betraying nothing. 

"Draco," he replied pressing his mouth into a firm line. 

This would not go well. 

"Pleasantries aside," said Dumbledore attempting to rid the room of its heavy tension, "have a seat." They all sat down except Snape who continued to stare ahead, unmoving like some sort of sentry. 

"As you well know, young Mr. Malfoy here had an unfortunate encounter in the Forbidden Forest about a fortnight ago with a werewolf," he paused to let the information sink in but it seemed his parents had had time to compose themselves earlier. 

Dumbledore sipped his tea as did his mother whom he knew to be picky about how her tea was brewed. His father merely sat ramrod straight appearing to absorb the information Dumbledore was giving them though it was obvious he'd heard it before as well. He silently thanked Snape, this could have gone far worse, even though it wasn't over yet. 

"He hasn't shifted yet, as you know the full moon is in a fortnight, but I can assure you every precaution has been taken ensure he will continue his schooling comfortably," Dumbledore was saying. 

Draco noticed a cup of tea had been poured for him as well, beside it was a plate of cucumber sandwiches with mayonnaise spread on the bread and the crusts taken off, precisely how he liked it, how his mother used to make it for him years ago. He would have eaten it except his father was looking at him like he did not know him and something in Draco broke despite the years he'd spent putting up his walls. He felt disgusted by himself, he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. 

Even the Pepper-up potion couldn't fix this. 

"And why, may I ask," began Lucius Malfoy his voice icy, "was a student attacked on school grounds? Do parents not entrust you with their safety, headmaster?"

The headmaster in question hardly bristled at the personal attack. "The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason, Mr. Malfoy and students are never allowed to enter it without the supervision of a professor. However," he said glancing at Draco, "some decide to take matters into their own hands every now and then. That as you know can rarely be prevented, only rectified."

"You don't say," he said fixing Draco with a look that said his Easter holiday would not be so pleasant. "And tell me Albus, how can you hope to 'rectify' my son now? Not even Severus could create a cure for Lycanthropy and I will not have my son-"

"What?" questioned Draco silently unable to let the words leave his farther's lips, he didn't think he could stand hearing them. "A monster? A disgrace to your pure blood standing? Well guess what, father," he rolled up his left sleeve and held out his arm. "It's too late for now."

His mother gasped, a look of horror on her face. "You will conduct yourself properly, Draco. Roll up your sleeve." Her stern tone left no room for argument and he did as she asked. 

The headmaster to his credit looked perfectly oblivious (as though cucumber sandwiches were the most interesting thing he had seen lately) but Draco knew he had known all along that he was marked (in more ways than one), very little happened within the castle walls (or out of it for that matter) that he did not know of. 

"He will remain here because I trust Snape to guide him, otherwise I would have removed him from this school at once." He turned to look at Draco only once before he rose. "If you will excuse me, I have meeting with the Minister of Magic in a few minutes. Narcissa."

She stood and hugged Draco again. "Write to me, alright Draco?"

He nodded mutely wanting nothing more than to keep her close but this time she was the one who pulled away from him. And he was forced to watch as she took his father's arm and left, he choked back tears. That was it, that was as polite a rejection as he would get from his father and it hurt, more than he wanted to feel. 

He needed to calm down, he needed the- the calming draught. Now. 

Ignoring the headmaster's voice, he fled to the only place where he could relax, the sixth floor washrooms. He would be fine after he took the draught, just a few sips and he would forget it all. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters in one day? I'm on a roll!  
> Jk. I've had this in my notes for practically a year.  
> It's time you guys get to enjoy it too. 
> 
> Warning: updates will slow down once I hit chapter seventeen because I haven't written past that. 
> 
> Talk to me lovelies! :)

_They say we are what we are_  
_But we don't have to be  
_ _I'm bad behaviour but I do it in the best way._

**Immortals  
Fallout Boy **

**Word count: 5546**

Draco did not know how long he was in the sixth floor washrooms, all he knew that was the he had last been seen in the Slytherin dungeons when he rushed in to grab a few vials of firewhiskey then returned to the washrooms. He had only been lucid long enough to finish brewing a fresh batch of Draught of Peace before downing the equivalent of two pints of the last batch accompanied by three pints of firewhiskey. 

"Malfoy, is that you again?" he heard a high pitched voice ask from the last stall. 

Moaning Myrtle was hovering a few feet away from him with a concerned look on her pale features. It would have irked him had he been sober but he was too inebriated to care. She was a ghost, there was little she could do to stop him, even if she wanted to. 

"'s usual," he slurred.

"It's just," she sniffed, "you hadn't been here in a while and I thought..."

"Thought what?" he asked his eyelids half shut. "That everything would be alright... after a few drinks?"

He laughed mirthlessly. 

How naïve of her to think she knew what would fix him, what would 'rectify' him like he was some broken toy whose pieces had been smashed so badly they could not be put together right. She thought just because he visited her washrooms every now and then to get sloshed she knew him. He wanted to yell, to curse and scream until his throat ached and his voice disappeared. 

He wanted it to be okay. 

But it was never okay for long enough, temporary relief was what kept him coming back whilst being the single most irksome thing he had ever encountered. If they could see him now... they would laugh, scorn him...

"Draco-"

"'s just Malfoy actually." There was no hint of annoyance or hate in his voice. 

The alcohol had washed that away. Maybe it would wash the pain away if he had more. 

Ultimately, Myrtle was not the problem, she was just unwanted company he could not remove.

"You have to stop," she may have been begging- not that he was in the right state to tell- but if she was then she was wasting her time. 

"Why should I? They won' and I can' either," he said as the words of a muggle song popped into his head. His head bobbed back and forth as he sang, "Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical. Liberal, fanatical, criminal."

Myrtle looked petrified. 

"What are you saying?" she asked. 

Draco's head continued to bob back and forth, the rest of lyrics unknown to him but the tune a very familiar one which he hummed as loud as he could. 

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Myrtle tried once more. 

He nodded, the hints of a stupid smile still on his face. "Lots and lots of it." What would she care anyway? Who would she tell? Who would believe her? To the rest of the world Draco Malfoy was the prince of Slytherin, rich, good-looking and lusted after. It was an image he had worked hard to build, one that would save him-had saved him- during hard times. 

Times such as these. When he couldn't seem to be able to keep his shit together. 

"You need to tell someone, talk to Dumbledore, he'll help you out," she said resolutely. 

The irony. 

Draco imagined himself walking into Dumbledore's office because he needed to talk. He needed to tell him that there was a threat on his life, a plot to kill him and that the onus rested on the shoulders of a sixteen year old boy. One, granted, that he didn't like very much but one by whom the Dark Lord had decided to exact his revenge. 

What a sight!

He shook his head. "Dumbledore 's not going to like it much." He brought his thumb and index finger together, about quarter an inch apart. "Not even _this_ much." 

At that moment he couldn't help a laugh, it was hovering just above his Adam's apple, bubbling on his lips, it had to be set free. There was no happiness in it, merely a sort of resignation as though he was saying 'Let life take its course, let it take me with it'.

She shook her head. "I can't watch this, Malfoy. When you swore me to secrecy, if I'd known this is what you meant..." She disappeared down the toilet without saying more, a puddle of water was the only indication of her presence hours later. 

He took another sip and whispered, "They'll eat me alive if I stumble."

{HPDM}

The Slytherin common room was cold and draughty as a tomb despite the roaring fire inside. It was nearing nine o'clock and had it been a weekday there would have been several people in the common room but as it was Sunday, majority of the Slytherins had called it a night immediately after supper with only a handful remaining in the common room to work on various bits of homework. 

"Where _is_ he?" asked Pansy as she paced before the hearth wringing and unwringing her fingers. 

It had been three hours since Draco had left for the headmaster's office and she knew for a fact the meeting could not have taken so long. Lucius Malfoy would either accept his son or he would not, neither would take long to put across for the stern Malfoy patriarch. 

"He probably needed some time to clear his head," Blaise said not looking up from a book on Dark Artefacts he had nicked from the Malfoy library over the summer. 

Pansy seriously needed to stop infringing on his reading time. 

She didn't bother to tell him not to read the book so openly, three quarters the school already believed all Slytherins were dark wizards (and thus bore the Dark Mark) and the remaining quarter would care less if they dropped off the face of the earth. It was, for the most part, a lie but then the Slytherins never did anything to prove this, they seemed to take pleasure in watching the other houses nod and whisper in disgust believing they were right. 

They were, as Draco once aptly put it, the perpetrators of their own evil. 

"Besides," he was saying. "You know how hard this year is going to be for him." She did. They'd only overheard snippets while visiting Draco but he'd told them in one of his fits of rage that he'd been chosen to kill Dumbledore in order to prove his family's loyalty, to redeem them in The Dark Lord's eyes. Pansy had wanted to hug him, to cry for him because he was already so broken, she wasn't sure he could sustain further damage but she didn't dare, not then. 

Draco hated pity and he was not above throwing her out. 

Still, if she didn't know better, she would think her best friend was depressed. Severely. 

"Do you think he's alright?" she asked and Blaise finally put the book down sensing this conversation would go on for some time. "He hasn't been himself at all these past two weeks."

"He did get bitten by a werewolf, I hardly think he would be jumping for joy," countered Blaise. 

Pansy rolled her eyes at that. "I know. But even on the train, he just seemed... off." For one he'd let her stroke his hair, Draco was hardly ever so liberal with acts of affection towards him. 

Blaise shook his head. 

"It's this thing that Voldemort's making him do- it's utterly crazy. For Merlin's sake, he's a teenager, even a bloody adult couldn't do it."

"Shh," Pansy hissed moving closer to him. "Blaise, watch what you say, we're in Slytherin, half the people here are against us."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." he pinched the bridge of his nose then lowered his voice. "It's not fair that he has to do it alone, you know? And it's Draco, beneath the façade of fearlessness, he's very afraid. He wouldn't say it but-"

"He feels it, I know. He's my friend too Blaise," Pansy said settling on the floor her legs crossed so that she had to lean back slightly to look at him. 

Blaise, to his credit, sunk to the floor opposite her, reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. 

"We have to do something," she said. "Anything, to help him. I don't think-" she stumbled on the words turning her face away to hide the raw emotion in it- "he can't, Blaise, he can't take much more." Tears found their way down her face. "First Voldemort, then his father, now this- he can't Blaise and I can't watch this thing kill him any longer."

"Shh," he mumbled pulling her into his arms. 

She offered no resistance and let his arms encircle her relishing the comfort of having a friend who cared consoling her. This was the only chance she would have to let all her feelings out because Merlin knows she would not do it in front of Draco, never. 

"We'll find a way, we have to."

She nodded against his chest. 

They stayed that way for a moment, receiving searching looks from a few Slytherins, until Blaise decided that Pansy had calmed down enough to break away from her. She dried her tears with a degree of embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry, I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Pansy," he said. "Least of all for caring for a friend."

She nodded, a small smile curving her lips. "Thanks Blaise. I swear if you tell anyone about this though-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill, Pansy," he said waving her comment away. "You should go to sleep," he said then added at her look of indignance, "I'll wait a few more hours."

Eventually she conceded, climbed up to the girl's dormitory and shut the door. Blaise reopened his book and prayed his friend knew what the hell he was doing, wherever he was. 

{HPDM}

Harry awoke from a particularly vivid dream with sweat running down his back. He couldn't remember exactly what the dream had been about, just flashes of white and green, too fast to make out any images. He lay in bed for half an hour before concluding that he needed to get out his bed for a little. Snatching up his invisibility cloak, he made his way out of the portrait hole and down to the grounds where he knew Filch would not be (he'd been down there before after facing one nightmare too many). As soon as he set foot on the grass, Harry shed the cloak, he sank to the ground. It was a cold cloudless night which made the moon cast eerie shadows on everything in sight. He shivered and thanked himself for thinking to wear the warm jumper Mrs. Weasley had made for him last Christmas. 

Flashes of what happened last year found their way to his present thoughts and Harry could not help the pit of fear in his stomach. It was official, Voldemort was really back, amassing followers once more. The thought of having to defeat someone so powerful, with so much more experience... he wasn't even human! He knew he wouldn't be alone, his friends would be there to help him, so would Dumbledore and all the other professors but he couldn't help but feel he would be expected to deal the final blow. 

He wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he would every be ready. 

He could survive the war, after all he was the kind to shoot first and ask questions later, but he didn't know if he would survive the aftermath. Would he be able to sleep? Would the faces of those that died plague his dreams? Would he be able to live with the guilt? These were the questions people never bothered to ask. Sure, it was all well and good to expect him to kill Voldermort but they wouldn't be there, they wouldn't be the ones forced to live with the guilt of taking a life, no matter how evil. 

He sat in silence as he tried to banish the thoughts. It was too preemptive, he would deal with it one step at a time. Each day as it came. 

The minutes passed in perfect solitude- they may have not been the perfect circumstances but the peace and calm were things he knew he should savour while he still had them. When he finally got up to make his way back to the common room (certain he had thought himself into weariness), he realised he had been on the grounds for two hours and it was nearing midnight. Sighing, he wrapped his cloak around himself and took the stairs to the common room. He was nearly there when he heard footsteps approaching him, did Filch never sleep? Slipping into an alcove, he held his breath and kept silent waiting for the footsteps to pass. 

They were slow, Harry could see the shadow dance across the walls, whoever it was stumbled on the steps- something he was sure Filch could not do, his was an awkward run-hop sort of gait or a slight limp when he was walking. Unable to take the burning curiosity, Harry leaned (just a little) out of the alcove to see who it was and when a blonde head appeared round the corner, he nearly tripped over his cloak. 

Actually he did, although not only from the shock of it but the angle at which he had been craning his neck too.  

He landed on his bottom with a loud grunt, the cloak wrenched from him, now tangled around his legs, to reveal his cursing form to a slightly amused Draco Malfoy. 

"I must say, Potter," he drawled, his speech slower than usual, heavier. "This is an unexpected delight."

Harry frowned and got to his feet grabbing his cloak as he did. He fisted his fingers in the fabric trying as best as he could to ignore the shiver that wracked his body at that last word.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked suspiciously. 

"I could ask you the same," he said swaying slightly, "but I can't bring myself to care about the-" he gestured to Harry with obvious distaste- " _Golden Boy_." He mock bowed at him before sending him a devilish wink that made Harry fight the blush he knew was creeping up his neck to his face. 

"Don't call me that," he snapped bunching the invisibility cloak tighter in his hands. "And what's gotten into you?" he demanded. 

He was acting strange. 

Draco smirked. 

"Whatever do you mean?" he questioned with feigned innocence that could have fooled  McGonagall herself.  

"You're acting strange," Harry bit out. "It's unnerving."

Harry did not know how to act around 'this' Malfoy and it made him even angrier than usual. Malfoy had obviously taken something, in fact, if Harry did not know any better he would think he was drunk. Contraband was strictly forbidden in school. Of course Malfoy would have some stashed somewhere. 

"Well, I'll do you a favour and let you in on a little secret," he said moving closer. Harry refused to step back and held his ground even as Malfoy invaded his space and leaned in to whisper, "We're all mad in here."

Then he walked down the corridors humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar to Harry who had missed the tell tale smell of alcohol in his breath because his heart was beating too fast. 

{HPDM}

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he heard Pansy yell as she stormed into the boy's dormitory. 

Several irritated groans were the only answer she received along with a 'get out!' from Theo who'd probably been out till late snogging some Gryffindor or the other. However, she was not a Slytherin for nothing and her steely nerve was one her most damnable traits. She marched right to Draco's bed and threw back the drapes before yanking off the covers. 

He hissed. "I will hex the Slytherin out of you if you do not leave right this instant." He was having a splitting headache and had only gotten a measly four hours of sleep. Now was not the time. 

"Where were you?" she demanded though her voice was considerably less loud this time. 

He grit his teeth. "Out." He had meant it to sound like a curt command instead it came out like a plea. 

_So fucking weak._

_No wonder your father couldn't stand the sight of you._

_Shut up. Please._

"Where?" she pressed her shadow hovering over his sleeping form. 

She missed his shaky inhale. He hoped she did. "The Quidditch pitch, Astronomy Tower, Wash closet, whichever you want."

"We waited for you."

Eyes still closed, mind whirling with thoughts, he said, "Sorry to disappoint."

"Blaise," she called obviously close to breaking point. 

"Mmph," said Blaise from underneath a pile of sheets. "It's too early Pans, go back to bed..."

"For the love of-" she swore quite heavily. "The two of you will get dressed and come down to breakfast this instant," she said spinning on her heel. 

This got a reaction from both Draco and Blaise. 

"Says who?" demanded the former as the latter sat up groggily and tried for an incredulous look. 

The loud banging of the door was the only answer they received. 

"Women," grumbled Theo sinking further into the sheets. 

Blaise looked like he could not agree more. 

It didn't take them long to get ready and in less than twenty minutes they made their way down to the great hall before Draco realised with a pang that he had forgotten to take his daily doses. They hadn't always been daily but he couldn't seem to remember when they'd become such a vital part of his existence. 

"What?" said Blaise seeing the expression on his face. 

"I forgot something, why don't you go ahead and I'll catch up?" he said already turning back in the direction of the dungeons. 

"Oh no you don't. She's in one of those moods and I am not facing her alone. Besides," he continued ignoring Draco's raised eyebrow, "you're not getting out of this one easy, she really did wait- until nine and she was exhausted."

Draco sighed. "Don't guilt trip me, Blaise."

He absolutely despised the tactic, almost as much as the emotion itself. It was the last thing he needed at the moment. He had learned long ago how to lock those feelings away, if he walked down that path, he would drown in a sea of regret which frankly, he had no time for. 

"I am doing no such thing, it's the truth Draco, the least you can do is have breakfast with her. And apologise."

Draco's fingers twitched, for a moment he considered making a run for it, it wasn't as though it would take ages to take a couple of potions. He felt the pull, the need deep within him for the relief his potions would provide. For a moment he thought he would go, he even took a step forward but he knew it wouldn't be that easy. For one, Pansy's outburst would have woken up the entire house and people would be milling around getting ready for Sunday breakfast (a late affair, more of a brunch really), he also did not want Pansy to worry anymore than she already did, that would lead to questions and he wasn't ready for. 

"Fine," he said. They would need to return to get their swimming things anyway. "I hope your swimming has gotten better. For your sake," he added darkly before sauntering into the great hall. 

Blaise's growl followed him in. 

{HPDM}

It was one of those beautiful days when the remnants of summer were let loose in the last weeks of autumn before the cold really took hold. Because he and Ron had spent nearly half the day yesterday playing Quidditch (and as a result accomplished very little by way of homework) Hermione had made them accompany her to the library until they got it done. 

All of it. 

Ron had complained, so had Harry. After all, they'd gotten all the homework that was due on Monday done the day before which should have earned them a homework-free Sunday in their opinion but Hermoine had been having none of it and Ron hadn't stopped scowling for an hour. 

Harry looked up from his essay on the different types of disillusionment charms and how they could be applied and rubbed his eyes. "Honestly, Hermoine, the library's practically empty. What harm could an hour in the sun do?"

With a loud sigh that earned her a glare from Madam Pince, Hermione set down her quill and turned to Harry. "Very well, I'll catch up with you two later, don't you dare forget to do the rest of your homework."

They promised not to and quickly slipped out of the library. "Where to?" asked Ron conspiratorially and Harry couldn't help a grin.

"How about a lap around the Quidditch pitch."

Ron grinned enthusiastically and they both rushed back into the common room to get into their flying leathers. 

"Blimey," said Ron as they shed their red cloaks and walked onto the Quidditch pitch brooms trailing behind them. "It really is hot."

He had been surprised to find most of the Gryffindors lazing around the common room telling stories or finishing up homework but it was obvious why by now. It was sweltering outside, Harry immediately regretted suggesting they fly but he promised himself they wouldn't be out long. They could probably return to the common room to have a relaxing rest of the afternoon. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this was far better than the stuffy library. Eighty degrees or no. 

Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing because he flashed Harry a grin before mounting his broom and disappearing with a woosh. Unable to contain his own happiness, Harry mounted his broom and followed. They flew around the Quidditch pitch a couple of times before flying around to the castle (resulting in startled yelps from Gryffindors when they tapped at their windows). Harry had to remember to pace himself as Ron's broom was older and slower than his but he was so exhilarated it barely bothered him. Far ahead, Harry spotted the Black Lake, it looked as imposing as ever though he could hardly see much from that distance. "You reckon' the Giant Squid's tentacles are more than a hundred feet long?" he asked as an idea struck him. 

Ron grinned mischievously. "I suppose we should find out, no use speculating about it." 

Grinning, they raced each other towards the great lake. 

{HPDM}

As it turned out Pansy was ready (having changed and brought all her necessities in an emerald green bag down to the Great Hall) and said she'd meet the boys by the lake in exactly ten minutes. Draco was in a far better mood as he made his way up the stairs knowing he would take the much needed potions when he got to the dormitory. Also, Blaise was shite at swimming. 

Oh, he should never have doubted Pansy. 

Draco went first once they got to the dungeons and took just a minute longer to take a sip of the Draught of Peace. It took all his willpower to say no to the alcohol because he knew himself well enough to know one sip would not be one sip once he started and he didn't exactly want to drown in the Black Lake because he'd lost consciousness. It wasn't a bad way to go but Draco didn't particularly feel like it today. 

He paused wondering why that was. He had been this way for a while now and he couldn't think of a single reason for the sudden ray of sunlight. Maybe it was nothing. He was just over thinking it. There would be highs and there would be lows. Maybe this was his hidden summer. 

He grabbed a change of clothes, a towel and some sunscreen- because one could never go wrong with sunscreen. Once Blaise got what he needed, the two made their way to the grounds ignoring the odd stares from some of the students who happened to be on the corridors. It wasn't forbidden to swim in the Great Lake, not outright anyway and being Slytherin in nature, it was a loophole they would not miss an opportunity to take advantage of. 

Pansy was reclined on her towel eyes shut as she soaked up the sun. She was dressed in a black costume (of the two piece variety) and not a very modest one at that because this was Pansy after all, but they were friends and neither boys saw her as more than that though Draco had to admit she had a great body for someone who detested sports in general. 

Scheming did consume a lot of energy then.  

"Finally," she said squinting and getting up to shake her towel free of dead leaves and insects. 

They walked to the lake in companionable silence. "So Blaise," began Pansy her voice too innocent to bode well for the bronze-skinned boy who walked beside her. 

"Don't go there, Pans," he warned and she laughed. 

Draco snickered. 

He gave the two a long suffering eye roll and resolutely ignored them until they got to the lake. They set their things a good few feet from the bank and watched the undisturbed black surface in solemn silence wondering if they were really going to do this and how they'd agreed to it in the first place. 

"So how exactly do we go about it?" Blaise asked eyeing the lake like a arithmatician a particularly complex problem. 

"Go about what?" asked Pansy dipping a toe into the inky black water before letting out a hiss. "Cold."

"Entering the damned lake," he said gesturing to the water. _"Swimming._ Not to mention escaping whatever monstrous beasts lay in wait for us down there. How?"

Pansy sighed. "Since you two girls aren't going to get in anytime soon, I'll go first." She waded into the lake until she was waist-deep then waved back at them to follow before disappearing below. 

Draco followed, only because it had been a long time since he swam and they were breaking about a dozen school rules. He also didn't want anything to happen to Pansy despite the fact that she had ruined his morning. He motioned to Blaise who was still at the bank ankle-deep in water. "Are you going to stand there all day?" 

Pansy resurfaced with a gasp and grinned at Blaise. "Well?" she called. 

"Alright, alright," he said wading in. "So what exactly are we supposed to do, now that we're here?"

Malfoy shrugged. 

"Anything. Or nothing at all," she said. "You boys get cozy, I'm going to explore."

Blaise smirked then turned to face Draco. "Cozy," he mused. 

Malfoy merely scowled at him before disappearing beneath the surface. He'd always imagined he'd be unable to see in Black Lake and had wondered how the Tri-Wizard champions had managed it but it was clearer than he would have guessed, like water with grey sediment. Several feet ahead he could see Pansy swimming through an arch and a thought suddenly struck him, perhaps there were some useful plants for potions down here. Granted, it was unlikely and they may be poisonous but why not study them?

He resurfaced to take a deep breath of air before going as deep as he dared. His fingers closed around a blue plant, it was slippery as though covered in slime, with blue venation. He leaned closer to examine it wishing he could sniff it. He plucked it and put it in the pocket of his swimming trunks, he wouldn't use it until he knew what it was but there was no harm in keeping it. Beside it, was another small plant with a green stalk and pale pink leaves, he was about to take that too when he heard a deep rumbling sound. He turned and saw Pansy swimming towards the surface but she was too far ahead to see him. Had she disturbed something? Knowing Pansy that was a big possibility. He broke the surface and took a large gulp of air. 

"What's going on?" he asked. 

"The squid... " Pansy panted, a panicked look on her face. "We need to get out..." She was already swimming for the bank where he could see Zabini pointing his wand at something. Draco looked up and saw Potter and the Weasel on brooms. His fists clenched, stupid Potter had to ruin everything. He saw Weasel throw something into the Black Lake and cursed- loudly. The boy seemed to notice him then and Potter froze eyes wide in shock but Draco did not get to savour that look because something wrapped around his leg, something soft and slippery, and yanked him down just as he saw a flash of red. 

{HPDM}

Harry wasn't sure what he had been thinking, he wasn't even sure he had been thinking. The minute he saw one of the tentacles drag Malfoy down, he had jumped off his broom and dived into the water, effectively avoiding a curse from Zabini that had sounded suspiciously like Dark Magic. He took a large breath of air before breaking the calm surface of water with a loud splash. Five metres below he could see Malfoy struggling and squirming, his pale blonde hair like a halo around his head. He looked even paler than usual and Harry was struck by how ethereal he looked. 

He swam toward the squid and Malfoy froze when he caught sight of him before he continued struggling against the Squid's grip once more, his movements slackened and Harry could tell he was losing oxygen fast. He wracked his head for a spell, something he could use to loosen the Squid's grip until he realised he wouldn't be able to speak under water. 

Malfoy was not moving anymore and the sight of him laying limp caused Harry to panic. He stabbed viciously at the squid but it would not let go, instead it dragged Malfoy deeper into the cold depths of the lake, down to the very bottom. At this rate they would freeze to death. Harry felt himself slipping, he too was running out of air and if he did not get to the surface soon enough...

A flash of green blinded him for a moment and he saw the tip of the tentacle float away. Without thinking, he grabbed Malfoy's arm and swam toward the surface. Toward safety. 

{HPDM}

"Malfoy? Malfoy, can you hear me?" Pansy asked shaking him a little. 

His eyes fluttered and he coughed water as he sat up. Harry shared a look with Ron and they turned to go. "Where do you think you're going?" demanded Blaise, wand still trained on their figures. 

"Back to the castle," responded Harry. "Move."

"You nearly killed him, you know that?" Pansy looked like she wanted to squash them to nothing. "You could get expelled for that."

Ron paled but Harry pretended to be unfazed. It was their fault for swimming in the Black Lake, not theirs. Malfoy was on his feet now approaching them with a dark look in his eyes, Harry forced himself not to look away and tried not to notice how the drops of water on his bare chest glinted in the sunlight. 

"How were we supposed to know you'd be swimming there?" asked Ron angrily. 

"Shut up, Weasel, you wouldn't know a-"

But Harry was already pointing his wand at Pansy Parkinson, daring her to complete that statement. The dark-haired Slytherin bit her tongue and did not say a word though her glare was equally menacing. 

"Watch it, Potter," snapped Malfoy, "you might want to choose your battles wisely, especially when you're outnumbered."

"I saved your life, you git."

He sneered. "I didn't need saving, Golden Boy. I didn't ask you to do anything for me."

Harry couldn't believe this, even after risking his own life for him Malfoy still had to be an arse. He felt played for some reason though he shouldn't have expected much more from a bunch of Slytherins. Why did he have to jump off his broom? Because as much as you hate Malfoy, which he did- tremendously at that- you wouldn't want to see him die because you were too interested in the length of the squid's tentacles. 

Where was the Malfoy he'd spoken to yesterday? The Malfoy who had winked at him and been delighted to see him? Harry shook his head. What was he thinking? Malfoy had clearly been under influence at the time. He hadn't known what he was saying. He had not been his right mind. 

Harry spun on his heel grabbing Ron's arm as he walked back to the castle. "Let's get out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astute readers and film watchers will notice that I borrowed a line from my favourite pirate: (Captain) Jack Sparrow, it was in the the 1st installment: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Thanks to Jack for that one :) 
> 
> Also, concerning the colour of the Felix Felicis, I thought I'd clear it up before the questions began. In the film, it was clear in colour but in the book it was gold. I decided to stick with J. K. Rowling's depiction of it hence labeling it gold. Hope that cleared up things for those who haven't read the books. 
> 
> Lastly, TW for selfharm! I do not in any way advocate for selfharm as a coping mechanism but for those that find themselves unable to tame the urge please know that there is help out there and there are people who care. Please get help. If you know someone who engages in selfharm or other self-destructive behaviour try to help them out as best as you can.  
> 
> TTM my lovelies. 
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_All of our life we'll wait for the answer_  
_And the question is why_  
_We're just travellers_  
_In endless space_  
_If we're following our mind_  
_We can glide into light_  
_No one knows if there'll be an answer  
_ _While we're morphing through time_

**Morphing Through Time  
Enigma**

**Word count: 5844**

"That was dramatic," Blaise said as they pulled on their clothes. 

The sun had began to set and with it the last dregs of heat faded away ushering in a cool September breeze. Pansy dried off her hair with her towel as she nodded her assent. "Only Gryffindors would be that idiotic."

"Mmm," Draco said absentmindedly as he fingered the buttons on his silk shirt. 

He wasn't paying attention, his gaze was trained forward, toward the now calm surface of the Black Lake, he couldn't help that his thoughts had wandered back to what Potter had done. Unwittingly saving his life had put Draco in a very bad position, the thought of owing Golden Boy one, was more than unnerving, it was enraging. He could have fought off the stupid squid, he'd just needed time-

"Draco," Pansy was saying, now fully dressed, her hands on her hips. 

He tore his gaze away from the Black Lake and did up the rest of his buttons as quick as he could making sure to roll down his sleeves. "Yes?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, an expression that meant she knew something and only needed to have it confirmed. "Were you paying attention?"

He nodded, he didn't like it when Pansy looked at him like that, it made him feel as though she had the uncanny ability to see into his soul or worse, through his lies. It made him feel naked, bared. He shouldn't be lying to them, they would kill him when ( _if_ ) they found out but it was like a reflex action he couldn't stop. "Probably the Weasel's idea, he's twice as thick."

Blaise chuckled at that pulling on his pants lazily as he watched the setting sun. "My money's on Potter, he's got spine." Draco wasn't sure he liked Blaise's expression when he said this, then again, he shouldn't have anything against it, should he?

"Have you got any galleons on you?" asked Pansy as she wrapped her scarf around her neck freeing the strands of dark hair that got caught in it. 

Blaise's expression was cautious. "Ten."

"Deal," she said. 

"Are you up for a bet, Draco?" she asked while wrapping her swimming piece in a towel and stuffing it into her emerald green knapsack. 

He smoothed down his shirt, put on his jumper. "No thank you. I'd prefer not to bet on whose idea it was to murder me."

Pansy and Blaise laughed. 

{HPDM}

Potions with Slughorn was like eating dry toast, it scratched and scraped down your throat then left a bitter taste in you mouth. It was evident that Snape surpassed this man in terms of intellect and brewing but there was nothing to be done if his godfather wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts more than potions. 

He'd practically jumped at the idea and Draco'd had to listen to all the wonders of teaching DADA and the new ways he could make students suffer and perhaps fail the Golden Boy just a tad while he was at it. His godfather would have spent half his summer going on and on about it if it wasn't for Draco's polite choice to show him the door should he utter one more about the Potter even if it involved making him suffer. 

In hindsight, he supposed that was how his father had felt each time he came home for the holidays and not stopped talking about 'Potter this and Potter that'. 

"On the chalkboard is the list of ingredients you will require to brew the Draught of Living Death. Can anybody tell me what that is?"

Hadn't they done a write-up last week and been asked the same exact question?

Granger's hand was the first up. "It's a sedative potion which when taken induces a death-like sleep on the whoever drinks it."

Slughorn smiled. "Correct. Five points to Gryffindor."

Beside him, Blaise snickered. "There were days Gryffindor would lose fifty points in a single lesson."

Draco concurred. "They still do, simply not in the same classroom."

"For this lesson," continued Slughorn in his highly soporific voice as though he thought he had done them all some great favour they should be pleased about," I have decided not to pair you up. Do note that I will do so in future lessons. You may begin."

There was a loud sound of something bumping against a hard surface followed by muffled voices. The door to the classroom flew open, Potter and his friend Weasel stepped through into the room looking flustered. The Golden Boy's hair was disheveled as though he'd had the nerve to step out of bed and come to class with it in such a state, his cheeks were reddened and the distinct smell of Hogwarts-issued lemon soap clung to him relentlessly. 

His nose wrinkled. 

"Ah Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I'm glad you decided to show up. Pick a book from the cabinet and find yourselves working stations."

The classroom was soon filled with grunts of frustration along with the pungent odour of the sopophorous bean which clung to everything it came into contact with fiercely. Draco ignored its stinging odour and continued to attempt to chop the darn bean but it just would not stay put. To his left, Blaise was clearly having trouble following the instructions. 

"No, once clockwise, twice anti-clockwise, really Blaise, a first year could do it," Draco said. 

"Alright," he grumbled. "No need to be so testy."

"Well, considering that I nearly died yesterday," he said whilst still trying to chop the damned sopophorous bean, "I deserve some leeway." Draco shouldn't be bringing this up now but it was still on his mind so whatever.

"About that-"

"No."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"Something foolish no doubt."

Blaise chuckled at that. "We're Slytherins, Malfoy. We may be devious, cunning, deceitful etc but we have a code."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "They're more of guidelines really," he mumbled. 

"You're in his debt now." Blaise said and the single statement seemed to bring some sort of sick pleasure as though he had the nerve to actually hope for something. 

Draco stabbed at the last bean effectively extracting its juice. "I refuse to be bound by- Blaise!"

"What?" he said looking up, clearly unfazed by Draco's tone. 

"You're supposed to be stirring it clockwise now, do you pay attention to anything I say?"

"As a matter of fact I do," the olive skinned boy mumbled brushing his bangs out of his eyes and stirring the potion clockwise. 

Draco grabbed a motar and pestle. "You're rubbish at Potions."

Blaise sneered, and not very gracefully at that. 

"Now that we're talking about who's rubbish at what," Blaise said full on ignoring his potion now, his hands on his hips dark hair partially concealing his left eye. "I saw you sniffing at Potter today mmph-"

Draco had sprang across the room and slapped his hand across his friend's mouth. He glared at him teeth grit in a mixture of indignance and disbelief. "Are you off you rocker? You cannot say such things out loud in a joint class."

"Mmph mmmph mph."

"Fuck!" hissed Draco yanking his hand away from Blaise's mouth. "Did you just _lick_ my hand?"

Blaise grinned. "Your fault for putting it there." He went back to stirring his potion- the wrong way. "I'm just saying that if you want to try new things-"

"I swear to you Blaise if you do not shut up this instant-"

Blaise held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. You are so touchy today," he mumbled. 

Draco chose to ignore that and focused instead on his neglected potion. 

"Having quite a bit of fun, aren't we Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Slughorn standing before him his pudgy features arranged in an expression of disdain. 

All eyes turned to Draco and the air in the room was suddenly heavier. 

He wouldn't be risking much so he said a little impertinently, "I've always enjoyed a challenge, sir."

The professor clearly knew Draco was being sarcastic but to fault him for anything would appear capricious even for the old man. His eyes narrowed. 

"The next time you and Mr. Zabini decide you would like to leap onto each other you will find yourselves out of my classroom. Understood?"

Draco was certain he heard the Gryffindors snicker. "Yes," he grit out his hand gripping the cauldron firmly, almost desperately, then added as an afterthought, "sir." There had certainly been no leaping involved. 

Unfortunately, even his brewing skills couldn't make up for Blaise's lack thereof or the fact that Slughorn despised him which therefore resulted in Potter winning the class competition- though he wasn't far behind if you asked him- and he got a chance to keep a vial of the golden liquid. He'd probably use it to win a Quidditch match or worse, give it to Weasel, Merlin knows the redhead could use a bit of luck. 

{HPDM}

"M mph bemoph e-"

"If you're going to talk, Ron," snapped Hermione over the copy of Most Potente Potions she'd managed to get Slughorn to authorise her borrowing of, "don't do it with your mouth full." 

Ron winced but swallowed the food in his mouth before saying. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"I happen to be studying," she said, "which is what you should be doing if you want to get more than a passing grade on your _NEWTs_."

Ron grunted then stuffed more eggs into his mouth. Harry doubted Ron wanted more than a passing grade, not everyone was born with Hermione's ambition after all. "I can't believe it's today," he said completely changing the subject. 

Hermione shut her book with a loud snap. "You've been practicing everyday for the last week, calm down." Clearly she hadn't been watching all Ron's practice sessions. 

Harry nodded despite that. "She's right, mate. You're flying has gotten better, I'm pretty sure you'll make the team."

Ron's fingers began to shake as he lifted his pumpkin juice and he shook his head. "Everyone else will have had loads more practice, I don't think-"

Harry shot Hermione a look, she shook her head in disapproval but Ron's frazzled state was beginning to make him panicky too. "Here." He pulled a vial of golden liquid. Ron's eyes widened. 

"Is that-"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry," Hermoine said. 

It really wasn't, it had only been a week since Harry received it, but Ron wouldn't calm down otherwise and he needed to eat his breakfast in peace. 

"Thanks, Harry." He knocked back the potion with a smile. "Let's get out there."

{HPDM}

Draco lay in bed, unable to sleep. The sounds of light snoring drifted into his four poster bed because as effective as the muffliato was at keeping in sound, it did nothing to keep it out. He would have to look into something of that nature soon if only to stave off the boredom and defeatist thoughts.

It had taken more than usual to get inebriated tonight and his supply had ran dry which meant that he would have to face the better part of the morning without a drink. Mercifully, the Hogsmeade weekend was coming up. Pansy had already informed him that he would be going, to which he had consented without much argument. This surprised her and the surprise had quickly turned to suspicion but she said nothing more on the matter for fear of pushing her luck.  

He hadn't found the Room of Requirement yet, it was the only way to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and if he did not write home soon with good news... He sighed. Draco did not know how much how longer he could test the Dark Lord's patience, he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. He lay awake every night because his thoughts wouldn't let him sleep and when they did they manifested themselves in nightmares that made him grip the sheets and writhe in terror. Blaise had found him once. They never talked about it but it hovered between them and he couldn't help feeling mortified for it. 

He knew Blaise would never mock him but the fear of being seen at his weakest was something he had never conquered. He just wanted it to stop, he wanted everything to stop. 

Sometimes the feeling inside him felt endless. It felt like he had a void within him that kept sucking and sucking. Any trace of emotion was sucked in almost immediately until he eventually felt nothing and somehow that was what hurt the most. It was a kind of dull ache that never went away. Just thinking about it made him want to yell, to break something. Why couldn't he be fucking normal? Why did he have to be this shell of a person? Why couldn't he be happy?

Something damp rolled down his cheek and Draco realised he was crying. Actually _crying_. He couldn't remember the last time he cried but it felt like he had so much to let out... Throwing aside the drapes, he grabbed his wand and stumbled to the toilet. He fumbled a bit with the handle and he was sure he made quite a racket but he didn't care, he just wanted it to stop. 

As soon as he locked himself in a stall, he slumped to his feet and let the tears fall from his eyes. It was too much, he needed an outlet. He needed to do something before his feelings overwhelmed him. 

His gaze moved to his wand gripped firmly in his left hand. It had been a while but he was sure he could fall into the rhythm of it without trying too hard. Transferring the wand to his right hand, Draco whispered,  _"Lacio,"_ in a mixture of despair and rage. 

The tip of his wand produced a razor sharp white silvery beam. He lowered it to his arm, dragged it against the marred skin there. The pain made him wince at first and he nearly thought he had misjudged the action but it was soon followed by a deep settling calm which reminded him of earlier days at the Manor spent reading or doing some other supine activity. Tears stilled rolled down his cheeks causing the open wound to sting a little but it only made Draco smile. 

He quickly made another cut, eager to feel even more, it was much deeper than the first but not deep enough to cause any damage. It took a minute but soon the endorphins were rushing through his system, he leaned back against the door and let out a breath. It was just as good, maybe even better, than he remembered and as he sat propped against the door, he could barely remember why he stopped. 

The memories came, slow and steady but they didn't bother him this time. The voices had nothing to say. He remembered when he had been normal, when Voldemort was just a far off dream and not a monster that lived in his house, when he didn't have to rely on stimulants to get by, when he wasn't some relief seeking monster that was in it for the next high. 

He barely registered the door to the washroom open. His wounded arm lay on his lap, bleeding freely and the other was squished between his leg and the stall. His head was tipped back, his eyes half lidded and his breathing was shallow. Whoever it was paused as if listening for something then took a few steps forward. 

Draco waited. 

He knew whoever it was could hear him but he couldn't care to be quiet. 

 "Draco?"

His eyes fluttered shut. His brain felt fuzzy and breathing felt a little harder than it had five minutes ago. But he recognised that voice. Recognised the resigned sigh that left his lips. 

 "Open the door." It was not a request and he didn't ask nicely either. 

Draco opened his mouth to say something or maybe to laugh, he couldn't really rememeber, all he knew was that he felt so fucking good right now all he wanted to sit there and enjoy it. 

 "Fuck. I'm not messing around, Draco. Open the door right now."

He couldn't remember the last time he heard Blaise take that tone with him. It sparked something within him. 

There was another curse and the footsteps disappeared out of the toilet. A slow smile spread across Draco's face, he'd always known Blaise would give up one day, that it would become too much. But why did it suddenly hurt to be right? He lifted his right hand to make another gash when suddenly the door flew open and he fell backwards onto Blaise's leg. 

 "Don't..." he said eyes flashing to Draco's arm. "Don't you fucking dare do it again. Accio wand."

Draco felt his wand fly out of his grip and he couldn't find the strength to keep his hold on it. 

Blaise's arms gripped his shoulders and moved him so that he was sitting parallel to the toilet itself. Draco grinned as he leaned back, he could still feel it in his veins. His blood was singing, had he ever felt more alive than in this moment?

 "D'you think swearing at me is going to make stop?" he asked. 

Blaise searched his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "Why do you do this you yourself, Draco?"

Why not? It feels good and it makes the voices shut up. But he didn't say that because he knew it would only make the look return to Blaise's eyes. He didn't want to see it. 

 "Why can't you be happy that I'm happy?" he whispered staring at the ceiling. 

 "You're not happy, Draco. You just think you are," he said. 

Draco's smile didn't falter. 

 "Just like before, huh?"

A hurt look crossed Blaise's face at that but Draco did not see it. He did however notice when Blaise raised his wand arm. 

 "No."

 "Draco, let me at least..."

Draco shook his head and hid his arm behind his back smearing blood over his pajamas. "Don't. I need... I need it to... hurt a little more."

Blaise looked pained at that but put his arms underneath Draco's armpits anyway and lifted him off the floor. He grabbed some tissue and led Draco to the sink. It was more of a shuffle and took one long minute as Draco seemed completely out of it and kept stumbling. When they reached the sink, Draco stretched out his hand without being prompted, as though it was still so normal for Blaise to do this for him. Blaise wet the tissue and cleaned Draco's cuts. 

Draco stared at them with a vague sense of surprise. Had he made so many? He could only remember making two... Before he could contemplate it further, he was being led out of the toilet and back to the dormitory. He slipped underneath the covers and barely registered the hand that brushed through his hair before he fell asleep. 

{HPDM}

The next morning Draco woke to a feeling of filthiness. He had slept six hours, two more than usual, but for some reason his body yearned for more. He rolled over, a heavy sigh escaping his swollen lips as he pulled the sheets across his body, he did not want to have to wake up just yet. The cuts on his arm wailed in protest as they rubbed against the soft material of the duvet and he prayed it would bring back that calming effect that sleeping no longer could these days. 

He heard shuffling in the room and assumed that the rest were already up, preparing for the Hogsmeade trip. Squeals of excitement that made his head throb wafted from downstairs no doubt a product of the first years' belief of everything they'd heard from older students. He hoped they would leave soon so that he would have the entire dormitory to himself, catch a few hours of sleep then laze around wondering whether he should get something to eat from the kitchens or lay in bed the whole day. 

"You better get up, Pansy wants to stop at Honeydukes," said Blaise from somewhere. 

He didn't draw back the bed hangings like he usually did. 

"Need... sleep," he mumbled into the cold sheets. 

Blaise chuckled but it sounded strained. 

Draco frowned into the sheets. 

"She would personally drag you from your bed but seeing as she's banned from here..."

Draco felt something tug at his lips and immediately the frown was gone from his face. 

"Banned?" he asked opening his eyes and drawing back the bed hangings. 

Blaise was buttoning his shirt and Malfoy caught a peek of bronze skin before he did up the remaining buttons. It did not go unnoticed. Oh how he loved these little games of theirs. 

"Pity. At the very least, you won't  continue to assail our ears in the throes of passion."

Blaise laughed that strained laugh again and the frown found its way back to Draco's face. "You certainly did your fair share of assailing."

Pansy eventually let Draco and Blaise wander around Hogsmeade when she met up with Parvati Patil at Honeydukes and it was evident tha neither girl would be going anywhere for some time. Blaise said something about getting a new quill and Draco wandered off to the Leaky Cauldron where he proceeded to order two pints of firewhiskey. 

He couldn't help but feel like there was something he didn't know. There was tension between him and Blaise for some reason. Of course there had always been tension between him and Blaise but it had never been like this. Usually it was an undercurrent, this time it was bubbling on the surface, begging to break free. Draco tried to think back, tried to recall whether anything had happened. He remembered everything until ending up in the toilet. Everything else was a blur. There were snatches of memory here and there but nothing enough to satisfy his curiosity. Now that he though about it, he wasn't sure how he ended up in his bed. He didn't think he could have gone back by himself. Had someone found him?

Draco hoped not. He especially hoped it hadn't been Blaise, he couldn't deal with that right now. 

He finished the drinks faster than he'd have liked and wiped the back of his mouth with a napkin. His father would be disgusted with him but at this moment he had decided that he didn't quite care what his father thought, he wouldn't be seeing him until Easter break after all. He hadn't quite decided what he would do or say then but it all depended on what the Dark Lord's reaction to his 'accident' would be. 

He could imagine Lucius feigning happiness if the Dark Lord found Draco's new form useful and vice versa. He doubted he would be left to the streets though, his mother would not allow it. Even if it meant standing up to the Dark Lord himself. 

A small smile graced his lips at that thought. 

He should write to her soon. 

Draco forced himself to curb that train of thought and focused instead on his current business. The counter was maned by a Tobias Dane whom he ordered a shot from and asked if Jack was in. 

"Who's askin'" he said as he polished a glass with a dirty looking dish rag. 

Draco fought the urge to retch. "Malfoy."

The barkeep stiffened but went round to ask for Jack all the same. Draco took the opportunity to down the shot in one go stifling a grimace that fought its way to the surface at the bitter taste. A moment later, a thin dark-skinned man with close cropped hair, a stud in his ear and tattoo on his neck emerged from a room in the back. He motioned for Draco to follow. He did. The routine was one he'd followed several times before. Once he got to the back, he'd hand over ten galleons for three dozen bottles of firewhiskey then leave the room with a receding smile on his face as though he'd been greeting an old friend. 

He ordered two more pints. 

By the time he was leaving the bar, Draco Malfoy's sauntering stride had been reduced to an unbecoming sway. 

{HPDM}

Harry tapped his finger on the table trying not to stare at Ginny who was seated a few tables behind them snogging Theodore Nott, a Slytherin, and not the faithful kind either. He prayed she knew what she was doing because if he tried anything on her, Nott would have more than two angry friends and an ill-tempered brother to deal with. 

"You're staring again," Hermoine said. 

"Er... sorry, I was just thinking," he said as he finished off the last of his butter beer. 

Ron made as if to reach for Hermoine's hand under the table but drew his hand back and scratched his head. Hermione appeared conflicted as to whether or not she had noticed the action. Harry took it as his cue to leave, he was sure his friends had a few ideas on how they wanted to spend their Hogmseade trip, he had noticed the burgeoning attraction between them since the Yule Ball and he wanted them to deal with it at their own pace. As he left the Three Broomsticks, he spotted a flash of blonde hair in the crowd. Harry hesitated, should he? He'd followed him to Borgin and Burkes before the start of the term and was none the wiser for it. Maybe he'd actually discover something this time. 

He had to up his pace to catch up to Malfoy but he kept a safe distance behind him otherwise. At some point he stopped and Harry thought Malfoy had somehow discovered he was being followed but the blonde dropped to his feet rather ungracefully to tie his shoelaces. He swayed as he got up, put out a hand out to steady himself and continued on his way. 

_There it is again._

With a jolt, he realised he was losing Malfoy. He jogged down the path and turned round the bend but there alley forked at that point, he could not see Malfoy in either one of them and had no way of telling which way he'd gone. He was just about to turn around, count this as a loss when he heard someone speak. 

"Why're you following me?"

So he _had_ noticed. 

"I'm not."

Malfoy hummed, a strangely deep sound which did something to Harry's insides that he forced himself to ignore. "What d'you call this then, Potter?"

Harry watched him carefully searching for anything besides the swaying that would tell him Malfoy was using some sort of substance. His eyes were bloodshot, skin paler than usual and he seamed to keep reaching for his left arm as though he wanted to scratch it. He could be on something but he could also be lacking sleep. Though why His Highness the prince of Slytherin would be lacking sleep was a mystery to Harry. He didn't have actual problems like normal people, everything was handed to him on a silver spoon. And he had the nerve to take it for granted. 

"Alright there, Wonder Boy? You seem a little... star struck."

"I told you not to call me that," Harry said. 

Malfoy raised a finger tipping forward slightly. "You said not to call you Golden Boy. Though... I don't think I'll, unless you think you can make me." There it was, he winked again and Harry was suddenly a cauldron full of emotions. 

"What have you taken?" he asked if only to avert attention from his flustered self. 

Some of the light left his grey eyes at that and Harry knew he was not so inebriated as to have lost all his faculties. 

Malfoy was barely a foot away from him and he suddenly seemed to recall. "You smelled of firewhiskey," he said. 

That night. 

"And at what point were you in close enough proximity to smell firewhiskey on my breath, Potter?" he asked with venom. 

The question startled Harry who floundered around for something to say. Malfoy- whose mood seemed to change every few seconds- merely glared at him like he was a particularly nasty bug in his way though no retort came from him, neither did his trademark smirk show itself. 

"I... that's not the point," he said a little lamely. 

"And what is?"

"You're drinking, more than you should," said Harry refusing to look away from the cutting glare aimed at him. "Why-"

"What I do in my spare time is of no concern to you, Potter," he said. 

He stepped closer until Harry could smell him, an infusion of firewhiskey, expensive cologne, sweat and ink. 

"Remember that the next time you decide to swim in dangerous waters."

He wondered as the blonde saunter-swayed away whether the pun had been intended or not. 

"Malfoy wait," he said grabbing his wrist. He could feel warmth and the slight flutter of his elevated pulse there, something about it was mesmerising. Harry ignored the fact that his body seemed to act without consulting his mind, especially in situations such as these. 

Malfoy yanked his hand out of Harry's grip. "What?" It was not unkind but neither was it inviting, it was as if the Slytherin had lost the energy to continue fighting but couldn't exactly put up with him either. 

Harry couldn't help the feeling of sadness that washed over him. 

"I- are you headed back to the castle?"

"Why?" he asked suspicion laced thickly in his voice. He pulled back his hand roughly. 

"You shouldn't walk alone," Harry said and nearly kicked himself for it. 

Malfoy was quite capable of taking care of himself. 

Also, what did he care if Malfoy passed out in the way? Hadn't the Slytherin attempted to get him stuck on the train just three weeks ago? It would be better for the world if Malfoy could just disappear but there was something in Harry that egged him on, a feeling he couldn't quite place, a sensation he wasn't sure he could name. Something was definitely wrong with him. 

"You just can't resist saving everyone, can you?" he sneered as he turned away from Harry and began to walk. 

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," Harry said keeping up with him. "It's reckless and solves nothing."

"Says who, Potter? In case you hadn't noticed, I could care less what you think." He swayed slightly strands of his too-long blonde hair falling over his back. Harry had to quell the urge to reach out, he noticed an odd bulge in Malfoy's pockets. 

Malfoy noticed his stare. "I would be a great deal more comfortable if you didn't take it upon yourself to ogle me," Malfoy said. 

"I was not," Harry said perhaps a little too defensively. 

"Sure, Potter. Such a body is not for the faint of heart."

"You are completely full of yourself, Malfoy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he mumbled. 

Harry cleared his throat. "What was it today?" he asked because he'd learned long ago that outright asking Malfoy about his drinking problem (which Harry was sure he had: a problem that is) would garner him no answers. Thus the try at subtlety which from the blonde's side glance was not as subtle as he thought. 

How could he still be this lucid after obviously having drunk so much?

"Well, it started out with two innocent pints of butter beer," he said holding out two long pale fingers one of which Harry noticed was ringed. "Then I decided to pay an old friend a visit after having a shot then I had another and about three glasses of firewhiskey- or was it two? I can't really remember..."

"You drank all that?" asked Harry a little shocked. 

Malfoy gestured to his teetering self. "Clearly."

Harry couldn't resist. "How did the shot er..."

Malfoy gasped placing a hand on his heart. "The Great Harry Potter has never had a shot? This could make the Prophet."

"Oh shut up," he said. "We only drink butter beer."

"Well you, my friend, are missing out on the finer things in life." Harry tried not to attach too much meaning to the words 'my friend' instead choosing to focus on the path ahead of him. "It's not something I can put into words, you've got to try it for yourself."

He wasn't sure that was going to happen anytime soon but nodded anyway. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't know how to drink it right," he mused to himself. 

Harry's brow furrowed. He scratched his head. "Never knew there was a wrong way to do it."

He received a long-suffering sigh. "Some of us actually assess situations before we charge into them, Potter."

"Really? Are sure you assessed this one right because it seems to me-"

"Life is too short to waste time following every single rule. You would know all about that."

Harry snorted. He could see the castle in the distance but if he wasn't mistaken they hadn't been walking fast (they couldn't with all Malfoy's staggering), could time have passed so fast?

"I think the Slytherins would be willing to contest that."

A slow smile curved Draco's thin chapped lips. "I think they would."


	6. Chapter 6

_I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun,_  
_I'll be the bright, and black, that's making you run._  
_And I feel alright, and we'll feel alright,_  
_'Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out._  
_I'll be doin' this, if you ever doubt,  
_ _'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out._

**Love Runs Out  
One Republic**

**Word count: 6719**

The Gryffindor common room was warm and toasty that Wednesday evening of end-September with students scattered here and there. Although Halloween was still a month away there were rumours that the Slytherins would be hosting a party in their common room. Only a select few would be invited from each house of course and there were no official invitations as of yet but even the Gryffindors couldn't help but talk about it. The Slytherins were known for their ability to throw parties and being invited usually earned one obscene bragging rights. 

In one corner, Ron sat opposite Seamus and Dean playing a game of exploding snap. The boys were in their pyjamas and every now and then cheers of triumph or grunts of frustration would be heard from them. Harry of course, sat with them but it was no secret that he was rubbish at Exploding Snap. Wizard's Chess as well. In fact, the only wizard's game Harry was good at was Quidditch. He too was dressed in his pyjamas, royal blue flannel pants and a grey sweatshirt. He was staring down at a copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ but didn't appear to be reading it. 

On the three seater couch lay Hermione on her back with a comforter wrapped snug around her body. Her brown hair was spread out on the pillows, her elbows propped up on the deep red material of the couch with her hands gripping both sides of a book which she was halfway through. She shifted her position every now and then but otherwise made no sound at all. 

Ginny sat on the two seater couch with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They too spoke about varying subjects though the conversation was centered mostly on gossip and the who's-who of the school. They tried to lure Ginny into the conversation but the fifteen year old girl found herself struck by boredom each time, which was not normal as she had been very happy to gossip and talk and laugh a few months ago. Now, their conversations seemed childish but she couldn't very well up and leave. It would be rude. 

"Gin? Ginny," Parvati was saying as she waved her hand in front of the ginger's face. "Are you even listening?"

Ginny sighed inwardly but nodded. "Of course, though I doubt Hannah could have done it, she's a Hufflepuff and a prefect."

Lavender chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "You know what they say: still waters run deep." She looked down at her nails for a moment then her gaze flicked to Ron who had just let out a whoop of triumph and had his hands up in the air, a bright smile plastered on his face. Lavender sighed and a smile formed on her lips as she watched Ginny's brother. The girl wanted to choke but masked it with a delicate cough. Parvati eyed her quizzically. Ginny shook her head. 

"Isn't he handsome?"

Ginny had just about had it. "No, not really."

There was nothing 'handsome' about her brother. 

Lavender dismissed the comment with a brief glare. "Of course you wouldn't think that, he's your brother."

 "Besides, haven't you been snogging Theo lately?" asked Parvati. 

Ginny's nose wrinkled at the implication of the word 'lately', as though she made the habit of snogging a different guy every month. Lavender tore her gaze from Ron to listen to what Parvati was saying, it seemed the only thing that would distract her from him was gossip. Not that the news of Ginny snogging Theo was news to anyone. It had been going on since the start of term- which was what everybody thought because in truth it had been going on a lot longer. 

She had known it wouldn't be easy going public with their relationship seeing as Theo was one of the 'eligible bachelors' at Hogwarts, the kind of person girls had fantasies about. But she didn't think it would be this hard. She constantly received dirty looks in the hallways and notes telling how unworthy she was of his affection. 

She told herself it didn't bother, she tried not to let but it was easier in theory. She also couldn't tell Lavender and Parvati this. 

 "Yeah," she said silently. 

Lavender looked about to say something when the sound of chairs scraping against the floor filled the common room as Ron stood up and moved to the table where he and Harry had been attempting to get some study done only an hour ago at Hermione's behest. Dean bid the group goodnight before he climbed up the stairs to the dormitory while Seamus moved to the table nearest the fire to gather his books as well. The game was clearly over. 

For now. 

Ginny knew that at some point in the week someone would demand a rematch or another go. That was just how boys worked. 

"You should just go for it, Lavie," Parvati said as she raked her fingers though her dark hair.

Ginny was horrified. "Of course she shouldn't just 'go for it'," she said not trying to keep the disgust out of her voice. 

"Whyever not, Gin?" asked Lavender earning a cringe on the fifth year's part at the use of the nickname. 

"Because," she said and this she thought was pretty obvious. She lowered her voice so that Ron wouldn't hear- he wasn't standing too far from them- though he appeared to be reading something. "He and Hermione are going out."

Parvati rolled her eyes, crossed her legs. She didn't even bother to keep her voice down. "Those are rumours, Ginny. Believe me, I would know."

Ginny knew that they were rumours but for some reason she didn't want Lavender Brown to end up with her brother. Hermione liked Ron and her brother secretly felt the same way even though he couldn't pluck up the courage to say so, to her or anyone else. Ginny couldn't help but think how romantic it would be if the two ended up together, they'd been dancing around each other for so long. 

Ron turned, walking towards them the piece of parchment he had been reading in hand. 

"Besides," said Lavender her voice rising steadily as she flipped her brown hair behind her back. "Didn't Hermione kiss Victor Krum?"

Ron stopped before them aghast, Ginny's name dying on his lips. The piece of parchment he had been reading fluttered to the floor. Ginny's gaze quickly searched the room for Hermione whom she noticed at some time or another had migrated from the sofa to the girls dormitory leaving the bright green comforter behind. 

 _"What?"_ spluttered Ron. 

His eyes moved from Lavender (who had something akin to a triumphant smile on her face) to Parvati (who was determinedly looking away) to Ginny. At the sight of his sister he swallowed seeming to recognise a source of something more than gossip. 

"Is it true?"

Ginny struggled with her words. 

"Ron-" she said but her brother was having none of it. 

"Ginny," he said firmly. 

She bit her lip knowing very well she couldn't lie, certainly not in front of Parvati and Lavender, it would be her word against theirs. She didn't want to spoil what the two had, she had noticed that they'd been getting closer these past few days, whatever she was going to say would ruin anything the two had. 

"It was two years ago, Ron," she said throwing her hands in the air. "Surely you can't-"

He didn't let her finish, before the words were out of her lips he had turned and stormed up the steps to the boy's dormitory his jaw clenched,  a furious look on his face. 

Ginny turned to Lavender, at her limit with her. "Did you have to do that?"

She feigned innocence. "I thought he already knew." Ginny knew she should have expected something like this from Lavender, after all, the girl was completely taken with her brother, she had been for a long time. At first, it had drawn them closer but of late, it had grown to be too much, she would retch if she had to listen to another poetic verse about the beauty of her brother's simplicity. 

She shook her head getting to her feet. "I can't believe you."

 "Ooh, I wonder what this is," said Lavender picking up the piece of parchment that Ron had dropped. 

Ginny immediately reached out for it. "Stop," she started to say but Lavender's eyes were already traveling down the parchment and Parvati was peering over her shoulder to get a closer look. 

 "Things to do," she read. "Practice quidditch, finish Potions, DADA and Transfigurations essays, ask _ to next Hogsmeade...Ginny!" cried Lavender for at that moment Ginny Weasley had swiped the parchment out of Lavender's hands. 

 "That's enough," she said crumpling the list in her hand. She glared at them furiously but they hardly seemed to notice.

They didn't seem to hear her either. 

 "Who do you think he's going to ask to Hogsmeade?" asked Parvati beaming. 

Lavender flipped her hair. "Not Granger I hope."

Better her than you, thought Ginny as she walked away. Surely Ron had not meant to ask Lavender out had he? She had noticed him grinning back at her every now and then in the corridors and the common room. Yet Ron liked Hermione, she suspected and Lavender would certainly ruin things. 

How would she make this right?

{HPDM}

The days flew by like Quidditch players on their brooms and as the Friday before his shift approached, Draco Malfoy found himself increasingly missing classes, skipping meals and sleeping less, though the latter was normal to the point that his body had become accustomed to it. He would later discover that it had nothing to do with his 'condition' as he had labelled it but that his first shift was approaching for which his body was preparing by secreting large amounts of adrenaline. He was currently pacing the sixth floor corridor wishing desperately for something to calm his nerves. 

He had nothing on him at the moment, a rather careless mistake on his part but he had promised himself that he would drink all he wanted tonight as long he was lucid enough the entire day. He had built up a tolerance these past few months but he could not risk roaming the halls of Hogwarts drunk, Potter had already seen him sufficiently inebriated twice- one time too many in his opinion. Not to mention the fact that he had fewer inhibitions under influence, why else would he have cornered Potter that way in Hogsmeade?

Well, technically Potter had cornered him but Draco had held a conversation with him, stood too bloody close to him. 

Draco who prided himself in personal space dismissed it as the effects of the alcohol, he never hesitated to tell anyone in so many words that boundaries had been crossed. He pinched his nose and looked up, there was no point to thinking about these matters at the moment, he had a task to accomplish. 

The majority of the week had been spent searching the castle for some sort of room that appeared to 'someone in need of it'. A dubious description for something he would be unable to see but time was ticking, he could not afford to sit back, the sooner he got over with it, the better. The matter aggravated him even more because he recalled that Potter and his friends has used such a room last year to hold their stupid Dumbledore's Army meetings. He knew it was on the seventh floor but the seventh floor wasn't just one corridor and he couldn't exactly remember which one it had been. 

It wasn't as though he could simply walk up to one of them and ask. Even that Marie girl or whatever her name was was still sour about the pimples on her face. He had no choice but to keep on searching. He was confident he would find it, eventually, he just wasn't sure he had enough time to go about searching for it the old fashioned way. 

Now, pacing the seventh floor (because he couldn't bear to remain on the sixth floor: he would surely succumb to his vices ), he wondered if he should just give up on the damn thing. To go home empty handed wouldn't be too bad, it wasn't as though The Dark Lord would search the school for the cabinet. Worst case scenario he'd probably do away with him once and for all, his parents held to much influence in the wizarding world to be done away with so easily. 

A flash of brown caught his eye, he turned to find a door that had most certainly not been there before. He looked around him to make sure no one was about, pushed the large double doors open and stepped into the room. It was large, nearly as large as the parlour at the manor with plush velvet sofas, a glass coffee table with a tray of tea and sandwiches, cream walls and a fire roaring in the fireplace. 

He took a seat, sniffing cautiously at the tea before taking a sip. A place to relax, that what was he had been thinking of. If he needed to find a place to hide something would the room transform into something else? Could it do that or did it always look like the Malfoy Manor parlour? It was a theory he would have to test. 

Perhaps after some tea and sandwiches. 

{HPDM}

When Draco got back to the Slytherin common room that evening, he was surprised to see two letters on his bedside stand. He instantly thought of his parents but dismissed the idea, his mother had asked him to write to her implying that she would be unable to do so herself. Who else would write to him then? He decided to take a look at them if only to quell his curiosity. 

The first was addressed to him in in elegant loopy script he did not recognise, the second was a messy scrawl that seemed vaguely familiar. He tore open the first with his wand. 

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_It has come to my attention that you have been avoiding our meeting. I urge you to pass by my office no later than a week after your first shift, there will be certain points of interest to discuss. I took it upon myself to procure a 'mentor' of sorts to guide you through this new phase in your life, try not to complicate things too much._

_Sincerely,_  
_Albus P. Dumbledore.  
_ _29/9/96_

With hesitation, he lifted the second letter and cut through it. Two pieces of parchment dropped onto his bed. He unfolded the thinner looking piece first. 

_Dear Draco,_

_Dumbledore informed me of what happened to you. I cannot truly say I am sorry for I too share the same fate and it is no burden to me. He also mentioned that your first shift is approaching and that you will need some guidance, you will find a parchment in the same envelope with a few guidelines. I cannot emphasize the importance of wolfsbane, ignore every instruction but this one for without the potion you have no control over your actions. Do try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the term, I look forward to your reply next week detailing your shift and any other new mannerisms you will happen to notice._

_Sincerely,  
_ _R. Lupin_

Perfect. Now he had to have continued correspondence with Lupin, a shifter. He lay back on the bed waiting for the familiar wave of hate and disgust to wash over him, there was nothing but emptiness. 'Vacuums do not exist in nature', it was something he recalled reading somewhere; there were no holes, no gaps, no empty spaces; nature always found something to fill empty spaces. 

And so would he. 

{HPDM}

Blaise sauntered to Draco's bed where the blonde was seated reading a book on Potions he had borrowed from the Restricted Section with Snape's approval (apparently he could still do that). He ruffled Draco's hair and settled beside him. Draco glared at him, smoothed back his hair and made a point of ignoring him. Blaise shuffled closer so he could see what Draco was reading. 

The tension between them had failed to die down over the past two weeks, in fact, it had become so palpable that Pansy had threatened to lock them in a broom cupboard to sort out their 'issues'. 

_"Seriously, what's going on between you two?" she asked as they made their way down to the Slytherin dungeons after supper._

_Blaise made a point of looking away. He was standing on Pansy's other side and though this did not normally bother Draco, today it did. Blaise had been avoiding him._

_Draco shrugged._

_Pansy turned to her other side. "Blaise?"_

_"Nothing's going on," he said. "Why would you think that?"_

_She rolled her eyes._

_"Whatever it is, you two better fucking sort it out. Before I make you."_

_Draco tried to catch Blaise's eye but the latter had barely glanced at him._

"What is it, Zabini?" Draco snapped drawing himself from his thoughts. 

One minute he couldn't stand the sight of him the next he was all touchy. He needed to make up his bloody mind. 

"Well, I was on my way here to get some candy," he paused here which caused Malfoy to glare even harder, "when Pansy told me to call you because we're meeting in the common room."

"We?" asked Draco looking up. 

"You, me, her, Theo, Millicent etc."

"Tell her I'm asleep."

"You tell her," said Blaise getting off the bed. 

Draco was both relieved and irritated by the action. 

"What's this meeting about?" he asked. 

"The Halloween Party."

Draco rolled his eyes. He could care less about the party. It wouldn't even matter if he was at the meeting or not. Blaise began to descend the steps. 

 "What's going on with you?" Draco said effectively halting him. 

Blaise didn't turn around but he stiffened. 

 "What do you mean?"

 "You've been..." Draco had no idea how to put it in a way that would not make him sound clingy, "avoiding me."

Blaise turned around then and the look he gave Draco was so piercing that the blond nearly flinched. 

 "What happened?" he asked when no response was forthcoming. 

 "I don't know what you're talking about."

Defensive already? This was not cool, collected Blaise he knew. 

 "It was you, wasn't it?" demanded Draco his irritation growing by the second. 

 "I don't know what you're talking about," Blaise repeated crossing his arms. 

 "Just fucking admit it," Draco hissed. "You were there that night-"

 "Watch your tone," he warned. 

Draco flung his book aside and got off the bed. "I'll say what I damn well please."

Blaise gave him a once over. "I don't have to take this shit."

 _"Listen_ to me," Draco grit out. 

 "Why? Because everyone has to do what you say, Draco?" he seethed eyes ablaze. "Do you think people are just puppets, that you can use them and throw them away?"

 "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. 

Where was this coming from?

 "Whatever," Blaise said turning around. "I'm not in the mood for this right now."

Draco watched him go, let him go, just as he had before. Just as he was used to doing. 

{HPDM}

"I can't believe it," said Ron as the three of them sat in the Charms classroom waiting for professor Flitwick to make an appearance. They had the class with the Ravenclaws who sat on one end of the classroom engrossed in their books only looking away to shoot disdainful glares at whoever spoke too loudly.

"Can't believe what?" asked Harry. 

Hermione seating a few seats away from them today and he had a feeling it was because of what Lavender, Parvati and Ginny had been talking about last night. She had noticed that Ron was suddenly ignoring her and it hadn't taken her long to find out why. Harry, who had overheard the whole exchange, didn't know why it bothered Ron so much but he was giving them a week before he thought of interfering. 

"Ginny's going to the Slytherin party," he said with a huff. "I don't know what's gotten into her."

Harry sighed. 

The Halloween Party wasn't for a month and though Harry knew Ron could never hope to convince Ginny not to go however well he played his cards, he still didn't see what the big issue was. Ginny wasn't a child, she was old enough to know right from wrong. Surely Ron should have a bit more faith in her. 

"Does she know what could happen there?" Ron continued clearly shocked that Ginny had agreed to go, with a Slytherin above all else. 

Harry knew that the real issue here was not the fact that Ginny would be attending the party, it was Nott. Ron's thinly-veiled disgust surfaced each time he saw a Slytherin but these days it was directed more at Nott than anyone else. Harry decided this wasn't a good time to mention that he too had been invited to the Slytherin party. He didn't know by who, he had simply received a hand written letter ferried by a first year Slytherin. It had said that he was invited to the party and that an official invite would be sent to him by the second week of October. 

He didn't dare let his thoughts wander on the matter. For all he knew it could be from a girl who was interested in him and not a certain blond whose winks made him flustered for no reason. 

"I'm sure she can take care of herself," Harry said as he got out his quill and books for the lesson. 

He needed to extinguish his current train of thought. 

Ron's features pulled into a frown. "I don't trust Nott, he could be using her," he said. "He's also a Slytherin, they're evil and a bunch of Death Eaters."

At that, Hermione turned in her seat and said to Ron, "Ginny's not a child. She can take care of herself." 

Well, she took the words right out of my mouth, thought Harry. 

Ron scoffed at that. 

Hermoine sighed, obviously trying to keep her cool. "Besides, they're not evil and you can't just accuse people of being Death Eaters."

"I'll bet Malfoy is," grumbled Ron. 

"Just because he-"

But Ron wasn't having it. "He is. Just like his bloody father."

"You can't prove it Ron, he may be annoying and self-centered-"

"Why the hell do you care?" demanded Ron. "The way you're talking, you'd think you're defending the slimy git."

"Defending him?" she sputtered. "I'm just saying he's... he's different this year, that's all."

So Hermione had noticed it too. Malfoy was not as vile or boastful as he had been in the past, almost like he'd matured over the summer, much like his body had. 

Harry choked. 

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermoine asked the anger draining from her face. 

Ron was eyeing him with worry as well. 

"Fine," he rasped then cleared his throat. "Just a cough."

Had he just thought that?

It was certainly no secret that Malfoy was one of the most desired yet reviled people in the school (he'd walked in on several such conversations enough times) partly because he didn't care what other people thought of him hence the too long hair, unbuttoned silk shirt and general non compliance to school rules. The rest of it was his air of mystery, he never laughed or smiled in public, unless it was forced, and he did not talk much save with his friends. He had seen it once, when they'd come down for breakfast together, Malfoy had almost looked happy. 

He was reminded of the day they'd been looking for the giant squid, it had been a stupid idea but it'd seemed good at the time. The glare Malfoy had given him... he could almost see it now, piercing past his skin, wringing his insides... 

"You okay?" asked Ron as he set his stationery on the desk. 

"Yeah, just thinking about the Black Lake."

Ron scoffed at the same time as Hermoine asked. "What about the Black Lake?" with a dangerous look in her eyes. 

"We went looking for the giant squid," Harry confessed since there was no point in lying to her. 

"And?" Hermione prodded. Ron flashed Harry a look and he shrugged. "You don't honestly think I believe that's all there is to it, do you?"

"Well, Malfoy and his gang were having a swim, stupid idea if you ask me," said Ron, "and we were tossing rocks into the Black Lake-"

"Ron, how could you- you could have gotten him killed!"

A few people were beginning to stare so she lowered her voice. 

"It was Harry's idea."

"What? I-" Harry turned to Ron then Hermione as he searched for something to say. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He was still shocked that Ron had pinned the whole thing on him when they had both agreed to it. 

She shook her head. "I leave you two alone for five minutes-"

"It's not like he didn't deserve it," muttered Ron. 

Harry thought of telling them about his encounter with Malfoy in Hogsmeade but quickly dispelled the idea, they would read too much into it, he'd only been following Malfoy to find out what he was up to. 

Professor Flitwick stepped into the classroom with a stack of books in his hands. 

"Sorry about that," he said placing the heavy looking volumes on the table. "Let us begin."

"Did you practice the charms?" asked Ron as the short man began to speak. 

"Of course," Harry muttered. "Did you?"

Ron nodded. 

He definitely didn't want a repeat of the last time. 

{HPDM}

Friday evening found Draco in the drafty Slytherin common room pacing back and forth deep in thought. The full moon was tomorrow, it would be his first shift. To say he was terrified would be an understatement. He had read the other letter from Lupin detailing his first shift plus pointers and tips for first-timers. It had been long and quite... descriptive but Draco had not shied away from it. In fact, he felt a pull to the words... as demented as that sounded, so he had read and reread the letter until he could recite nearly every word. 

Then he had replied with a simple: 

_Thank you._

_Draco L. Malfoy_

Because his parents had brought him up well and responding to letters, even ones he did not want to receive was polite. He'd been brought up to be the the perfect patriarch one day, too bad he was rotten to the core. 

While he was mulling over his lot in life, Pansy moved around the common room overseeing the designing of the interviews and working out the table placements. Not surprisingly, the boys were cooperating without much complaint. Mercifully, she had left Draco out of it all; whether or not she knew his first shift was tomorrow he had no idea but she left him to his corner. 

This party, which was her idea of a way to showcase Slytherin's taste, was take place after the Halloween Feast on Saturday evening until early morning hours. Draco was just watching Blaise hang up a Slytherin banner when something occurred to him. It was the 29th of November. A whole month had passed and he was nowhere near close to figuring out where the Vanishing Cabinet was. 

No closer to completing his goal. 

He would have to write home soon and not just to his mother. He needed to submit a status report of some sort. Of course he would make it sound like he was close, very close to figuring it out but he knew that all his big talk would have to backed by something. 

Unbidden, he thought of the stash of Firewhiskey he had stowed at the bottom of his trunk, he had not opened a bottle all week and he could not think why. He had been tempted several times yes but each time he found himself unable to understand why he hesitated whilst reaching for a bottle. Could it be a reaction to the potions he had been experimenting on? He certainly hoped not, it would be most... unfortunate. 

He couldn't very well experiment on anyone else because it would mean he'd have to be their shadow for as long as the potion remained in their system. Blaise was a likely candidate for that but also very transparent, if Pansy found out, it would be the death of him. 

Both of them actually. 

Also, Blaise was not talking to him. 

The next few hours were a blur of plans for the party wrapped around his pensive mood. The first, second and third years were unable to contain their excitement (one of them had nearly run over Draco on his way to breakfast) but the fourth, fifth and seventh years regarded the rest of the student population with contemptuous glances. There were hushed murmurs from the sixth years concerning the party but that was as far as it went. 

Draco found it difficult to pay attention during the day's classes. His senses were heightened, he noticed everything too loud, too clear and exceedingly unbearable. Once during Arithmancy, Professor Vector had stopped his rambling to ask if Mr. Malfoy was alright and if he needed to see Madam Pomfrey. The whole class had turned to stare and Draco had replied with a curt _I'm fine_ and had gone on to say he'd merely slept late working on a particularly complex problem. 

This pleased the professor immensely such that he asked Draco to _please share with the class._

Draco had not been ready for that. 

He chose to ignore the fact that one scent stood out amongst the rest, one that called out to him. It clung to Granger and smelled wrong on her which caused his nose to twitch. He ignored it (along with Blaise's previous comment about 'sniffing' Potter) because it was just a side effect of the imminent shift. 

At seven Pansy and Blaise dragged him down the steps to the Great Hall for the supper. He was not hungry, he was very restless but Pansy's mothering bothered him so much to the point of eating a few bites. He knew he would need the energy, Lupin had said so (apparently he also would not sleep less than ten hours) but he could not bring himself to work up an appetite. Everything was too loud, too...

"Draco?" Pansy asked looking up at him. 

He hadn't realised he had stood up. 

He tried to ignore the pleading note in his voice. "I need to..."

Pansy surprised him with a nod. "Sure. Go do what you need to do."

Blaise's stare was fixed straight ahead, on some unknown point beyond Draco's line of sight but nevertheless he muttered, "Good luck."

Draco tried to ignore the small sliver of hope that flared to life within him. 

He mumbled his thanks and left the Great Hall unaware of the pair of narrowed green eyes that followed his retreating form. 

{HPDM}

Snape was waiting for him by the time he knocked on the door to his private quarters. A tray containing tea and a platter of biscuits had been brought up from the kitchens, the professor sat at his desk reading through parchments, no doubt the numerous essays he had given them over the past month. 

He looked up momentarily when Draco shut the door behind him. "You're late."

"Fashionably," he quipped. 

He took a seat. 

Snape was content with marking the last of the essays in no hurry while Draco sat in uncomfortable silence. Finally, he gathered the parchments in a stack putting them away in a drawer before pushing forward a vial of a turquoise looking liquid. 

Draco knew what it was without having to be told. 

"Feel free to put it in your tea," he said with a magnanimous wave, "it's about as bitter as- let's see, how would you put it- ah, hippogriff piss."

Draco smirked into the teacup, his nerves nearly forgotten. 

Snape stood up once Draco was done. "It's almost time."

"How would you know?" It wasn't exactly his godfather's area of expertise.  

He did not deign to respond to the statement but trusted Draco to follow behind him once he locked up his office. It was dark, about eight, when they left the office and there was no one about as they made their way through one of the less traversed routes of the castle. On the grounds, Draco hesitated at the mouth of the forest, his godfather picked up on this. 

"What is it?" There was a note of impatience in his voice. 

He drew a deep breath. "Nothing, a mere flash of pain."

Silence. 

Draco's breath misted before him as he said, "You don't have to do this."

He didn't know what made him say it. He knew Snape did it because there was nothing else he felt he could do for his godson but Draco's mind felt fuzzy and he'd thought for a second saying whatever came to it would the relieve the pressure. 

It didn't. 

"Would you rather I left?"

No. 

"Yes."

Draco wanted to kick himself. He was doing it again, of course he didn't want Snape gone, he didn't want to be alone in this, he didn't want to hear the voices screaming in his head but he couldn't seem to get anything right. Merlin, he was losing it. 

Snape stopped. 

There was no change in his expression. "Very well. The other potion?"

Draco took the wolfsbane which Snape had handed him earlier out of his pocket holding it against a ray of moonlight to show his godfather the vial was full. He popped the cork, downed the viscous purple liquid and placed the empty vial in Snape's outstretched palm. He received a curt nod in return then the man turned and strode away from him his black cloak billowing behind him.

He slid to the ground, his back to a tree. He wasn't even that deep in the forest. 

 _Wait,_ Draco wanted to call but all that came out was a pathetic choked sob. 

It started as a spasm, he was unable to move his leg. A loud growl caused panic to spring in his chest before he realised that he was the source of the sound. Then bone ground against bone and Draco wanted to cry out but he bit his lip, blood pooled in his mouth. He arched forward with a cry of anguish dropping to the forest floor where he writhed in agony as his body reformed itself and muscle contracted. 

His breathing was laboured, the shift seemed to go on for almost an hour with short pauses in between as if his needed to replenish its energy. The pain was beyond anything he had ever felt, worse than when he had received the Mark... Another wave of pain overcame him, he fell onto his back, a low growling sound escaping his mouth. 

He was sure he'd passed out at some point because when the pain began to ebb he realised the shift had approached its end and he could barely remember a thing. Fur rippled on his skin as he stepped into the glow of the moonlight and let out a howl. He lifted a limb, swang it through the air allowing himself to feel the power behind the action. Despite his earlier loath to feel anything but distaste for his new form, it felt anything but. If anything, it was liberating. 

{HPDM}

Harry knew he shouldn't be doing this but he had been unable to resist. He had been on his way back from the library (Ron and Hermione had been arguing about Ginny going to the Slytherin party) where he had been finishing up on his Transfiguration homework when he saw Malfoy exiting the Great Hall. 

Instead of heading to the Slytherin dungeons, he'd gone to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and emerged with Snape. The two barely conversed as they headed for the entrance to the castle and Harry had been compelled to follow them. He didn't know what it was but something pulled him towards them so he had followed behind them at a reasonable pace. The two of them put together was a potent combination, Harry saw this as a chance to figure out whether Malfoy truly was a Death Eater or not. 

It wasn't spying. 

Not really. 

Once they had gotten deep into the Forbidden Forest, they stopped. Malfoy said something to Snape that made the man stiffen. He said something in reply to which Draco held out a vial of a purple coloured liquid then downed it. Snape took the vial from him and turned to go. Harry placed himself as close as he could to the stem of an old oak tree and held his breath. It was all for nothing it seemed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor walked past him without pause. 

He moved closer. Draco stood in a little clearing with rays of moonlight illuminating his pale form making his skin appear almost transparent. He watched from behind the oak tree as the blonde raised his face to the moon, lips pulled into a slight smirk, his eyes shut against the white light. His hands followed and he began to sway, rocking back and forth on his feet, his hips moving to a rhythm only he knew. Harry gasped, there was something private, intimate, about his actions and he got the sense that he shouldn't have been watching but he couldn't make himself look away. 

Then, slowly, as if he was in no hurry, Draco began to undress. His long pale fingers tugged at the silver and green tie at his neck, tossing it to the ground once it was loose. He went to work on the buttons next, his eyes still shut, his body swaying to a rhythm Harry wished he could hear. He didn't realise that his mouth was slightly open, that his breathing had become shallow, that he felt something fluttering at the bottom of his stomach. 

Draco was half undressed now, his robes, shirt, vest, tie and pullover on the forest floor. He reached for the belt buckle at his waist, Harry watched enraptured as he slid the grey trousers down revealing long pale legs. Without wasting any time, his briefs were off too and Harry was left staring at Draco Malfoy naked save for his socked feet. 

Suddenly, his eyes flashed open and Harry was overcome by a feeling of mortification. He'd just been caught staring at Draco Malfoy undressing. 

"What explanation could you possibly give to justify your relentless disregard or my privacy?" he demanded in a low voice. "What do you really want, Potter?"

Harry was stunned beyond words. 

"I-"

"Save it," he snapped. 

Malfoy's silver irises glowed in the light and Harry couldn't bring himself to look away. His pupils were dilated and he seemed slightly... out of it, but there was nothing Harry could do about it now. 

He was about to look away when he heard a deafening scream. Malfoy fell to the ground, twigs snapping beneath his knees. 

"Malfoy!" exclaimed Harry running towards him. 

 _"Stay back,"_ he growled holding out his arm. 

Harry hesitated. 

He bit his lip but before he could do anything there was the horrifying sound of bone snapping against bone punctuated with agonizing screams. Harry wanted to do something but Malfoy's body was changing before his very eyes, his arms were shortening, his torso lengthening, deep brown hair sprouted from his body. 

Malfoy gave one last yell before his body crumpled to the ground. 

"Malfoy-" started Harry. 

The figure that rose from the ground was not Malfoy- not the one he knew. Instead, it was a large grey werewolf. Harry opened his mouth to yell but the wolf lunged at him, effectively knocking him to the ground. It's dark nose sniffed at his skin then nuzzled the crook of his neck. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Life can be easy_  
_It's not always swell_  
_Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl  
_ _'cause it hurts like hell_

**Underground  
David Bowie**

**Word count: 3552**

Harry woke to the sound of grunting as well as a sharp pain in his side. He tried to sit up but there was a heavy weight on his torso that prevented him from doing so. He cursed and attempted to wriggle free which elicited a growl from the werewolf that lay above him. 

With a jolt he realised that the sky was a deep rosy colour and the leaves of the trees above were dripping morning dew onto his face. He shook his head to get rid of the drops of water that had found their way to his eyes. Had he really spent the whole night in the Forbidden Forest? Had it been a dream or was Draco Malfoy actually a werewolf? Had he really watched the Slytherin undress (a blush crept up his face at that) and turn into a werewolf? 

He looked down at the enormous grey werewolf resting on him- so it wasn't a dream then. 

"Get off me," he said slowly, still waking up. He was still a little tired to be honest but he needed to get up. There was no response. Harry prodded the werewolf. "Get off me, Malfoy." He glanced around at the forest, the sky, it was getting lighter. People would be waking up soon, he needed to get back to Gryffindor Tower. "Malfoy, will you get off me?" he all but shouted. "It's morning."

The werewolf stirred, shifted it's position (trapping Harry even more with its paws on either side of him) and yawned into his face. Harry's nose wrinkled, talk about need for a few breath mints. He pushed at the werewolf with his hands noticing that its grey fur was plush and soft- he had to tamp down on the urge to work his fingers through it experimentally. He took a discreet sniff and could've sworn it smelled something like Draco if you ignored the distinct smell of animal. 

The large creature barred its teeth at him before turning round and leaping off him. Harry got to his feet, dusted off his robes then looked pointedly at the wolf which had already began to change back. He noticed belatedly that Malfoy's wolf form was nothing like that of Lupin which he had seen in third year. Did all werewolves not look the same? Did it have something to do with the potion that Malfoy had drunk?

It struck him in that moment that the werewolf was Draco Malfoy. His rival was a werewolf, somehow, and no one knew. Merlin, if their positions were switched he knew Malfoy wouldn't hesitate to spread the news all over Hogwarts. Not that Harry was going to do it even though the bloody git deserved it. He wondered if any of the professors knew, apart from Snape that is. Did Dumbledore know? Harry raked dead leaves from his hair. How had Malfoy been allowed to stay in Hogwarts? Dumbledore obviously wouldn't kick him out but his father seemed like the sort to pull him out. 

"If you're quite done watching me dress, do you mind explaining what you were doing here last night?" said Draco making Harry jump. 

There was a hint of something in his eyes, surprise maybe and perhaps a hint of smugness. 

Harry cleared his throat. "I uh..."

He hadn't realised that his gaze had settled on Malfoy when he'd been thinking. And he shouldn't be the one to have to do the explaining here- Malfoy was a bloody werewolf. 

"I wasn't _staring_ ," he said a little defensively. 

"You don't say," the other boy said rolling down his sleeves before Harry could check for the Dark Mark. He collected his pullover from the ground and walked past Harry pausing only to whisper, "Saw something you like?"

Harry certainly did not feel a tingle run down his spine and he only followed because Malfoy seemed to know his way around the Forbidden Forest. Funny that. "No," he said. 

The blonde merely chuckled. 

"Is that what happened the night you were found unconscious here, you got turned into a werewolf?"

Malfoy didn't stop but Harry could see that his posture had straightened a little. His hands which were previously held in loose fists at his sides had clenched. 

"Morning," he corrected. 

"Really?" he asked now keeping up with him. "That's what you're going focus on, the time?"

Malfoy gave him a murderous glare from the corner of his eye. "I've got a lot of things I focus on, Potter. Luckily, voyeurism isn't one of them."

 _Ouch._ Malfoy had always known how to hit below the belt. 

"I am not voyeuristic," said Harry crossing his arms. 

"Mhm." Malfoy's hands slid into his pockets as was his habit. "You seemed to be enjoying my little show."

Harry gaped. 

Had Malfoy just said that?

"I- er... Show?"

The blonde chuckled darkly with a furtive glance at an unknowing Potter. 

 "Tell me, Potter," he said and Harry had not realised that they had stopped walking until he was backed up against a tree with Malfoy's face hovering slightly above his. "Did you like it?" he whispered. 

Harry was lost for words. 

 "Do you like being... teased?" 

His breath was warm against his face and contrary to Harry's expectation, didn't smell anything like the wolf's breath. It smelled like morning breath but he was sure he wasn't any better in that area. Nevertheless, Malfoy did not seem the least bit self conscious. He was looking at Harry with a mixture of anticipation and something else Harry did not want to think about. His gaze dropped instead to Malfoy's thin chapped lips. 

 "What are you doing?" Harry whispered. 

Malfoy smirked. 

 "Having some fun. What are _you_ doing?"

_Trying to figure you out._

 "I think we should head back," Harry said a little shakily. 

Malfoy grinned lazily and stepped back. "Relax."

Harry wasn't sure he could relax. He wasn't even sure he could walk straight. 

Dangerous waters, he remembered and wanted to chuckle. 

 "You take yourself way too seriously," Malfoy said as they resumed walking. 

Harry scoffed. " _I_ take myself too seriously?" he said. "I'm not the one walking around with a stick up my arse."

Malfoy appeared to be offended. "I will have you know I am very amusing company."

 _Maybe that's because you love to dance naked in Forbidden Forests._ He bit his lip for thinking that. 

He shouldn't be thinking such things. 

Malfoy's voice was suddenly very serious, his expression unreadable. He began fingering the sleeve of his pullover. "Listen, Potter, about what happened-"

"Which part, the shift or waking up with you on top of me?" Harry joked then winced, he hadn't meant for it to sound that way. 

Malfoy gave a weak smile that barely reached his eyes. "Both. No one can know. I know you would love to tell the entire school so I'm prepared to be indebted to you for it," he said, the last part punctuated with a look of resignation. 

"First, I don't think you can claim to know me if you think I'm going to tell the whole school," he said noting that they had both stopped walking. Again. The sun was almost entirely out by this time. "Second, you owe me two now, I may have been raised by muggles but I'm smart enough to know that's not how life debts work."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

"Very well," he said as he resumed walking, tacitly indicating for Harry to follow. "What do you want?"

In truth, Harry didn't really want anything Malfoy but it felt good to finally have the upper hand for once. It felt good to see him back down because he had no sharp retort, no ace up his sleeve. Just as he was about to say he would call in his favours some other day, a thought struck him.

"Why are you drinking?" he asked before he could think twice about it. 

Malfoy's jaw hardened, he stopped walking (again) and Harry could see that a shadow had descended upon his features. His expression was suddenly guarded and the previously light atmosphere was quashed beneath the weight of that simple question. "That's- I'm not ready to talk about that."

Harry nodded. "Tell me when you are."

Malfoy looked up at Harry. 

"What is this?" he asked motioning between the two of them. "Why are you being relatable?"

 _Relatable?_ Harry thought with raised eyebrows, that hadn't been the word he was expecting. 

But Malfoy was the one being relatable, it definitely wasn't  him, Harry liked to think he was always relatable. The Slytherin could have decided to be a prat the whole way and claimed Harry had grabbed him in the middle of the night (even though Harry could not grab much less heave a two hundred pound werewolf) but he'd kept his words strangely neutral. As though he didn't want to anger him which was unbelievable but the only sane reason he could think of. 

Before Harry could answer, he heard the snapping of twigs and turned to see that Snape, cloaked in black head to toe- and a smirk of distaste as was his wont- stood before them his look transforming to one of mild shock before resuming an expression of disdain (all to Harry of course, Merlin forbid anyone look at Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin wrong). Harry didn't have time to savour the look of shock though and wished he had a muggle camera or a Pensieve to preserve the priceless moment. 

"Draco," he said with a glance at his godson. "Potter." No one could ever look so contemptuous as Snape in that moment. Even Petunia and her horse-like face couldn't muster the muscle coordination acquired only after years and years of glaring at innocent students who were expected to know the textbook by heart by the first lesson. 

Harry didn't know what to say to such a curt greeting so he kept silent. 

"May I ask you what you're doing here?" This was addressed to him. 

"I uh-" Merlin, he needed to think up an excuse fast. Snape would relish an excuse to deduct him a good number of house points. 

"He followed me," Draco said casting a glance his way. 

Harry waited for Snape's outburst but it never came. 

"Well," he said already walking away, "the headmaster would like to see you, Draco. Since Potter is with you, you may bring him along, it's time to get things straightened out."

{HPDM}

Draco didn't like the sound of that, he had a feeling he knew what their conversation with the headmaster would entail now that Potter was here. _He's my mate_ something inside him said. Indeed he was, from all the reading he'd done the signs were clear enough. Scenting him, watching the crowds for him, standing too close to him- he would be surprised if Potter was clueless on the matter. Then again, he was Potter. 

Draco crossed his arms without realising it and prayed to whatever deities were listening for less wind. It wasn't much more than a chilly breeze but it was making it hard not to smell Potter which was making it hard not to grab him and shove him against a tree. 

Ugh. Could he be more uncouth? 

He supposed he had Snape to thank for the saved dignity. Maybe he should buy him a gift basket or something. 

He snickered at the muggle reference. 

"Something funny?" asked Potter perhaps with a little insecurity. 

He'd never thought the Chosen One would have anything to be insecure about. The old him would have held it over him, mercilessly. The new him constantly wanted to appease the dark haired boy. Honestly, it was getting on his nerves. He shook his head and the rest of the walk took part in silence. By the time they arrived at the castle's entrance the first few students were descending for breakfast, the halls were thus relatively empty and there was no one to notice the bizzare sight that was Snape walking into the castle Malfoy and Potter in tow. 

Thank Merlin. Draco wouldn't be caught dead wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, even if it was uniform. Potter on the other hand seemed to have no problem walking through the halls dressed in his dirty school robes. The bastard even had the nerve to yawn and ruffle his already messy hair. Draco could have cursed himself to oblivion for watching the simple actions so avidly. 

Finally they arrived at the gargoyle that stood before the headmaster's office. 

"Lemon drop," Snape said. 

The gargoyle moved and the three of them crowded onto the steps barely fitting in the narrow staircase. They emerged with aching shoulders and silent grumbles but made it to the headmaster's office where a "Come in." was heard before Snape could so much as rap his knuckles against the wood. 

"Aah, Harry, Draco" Dumbledore said looking up from something that looked very much like a tome nearly as thick as his entire hand. "Do come in."

Harry stepped into the room which was oddly well lit considering the only source of light was half burnt candles that had deposited wax all over the once shiny candelabras they stood on. He walked up to the table and took a seat opposite Dumbledore. The headmaster had just finished closing a drawer and Harry got the sense he had interrupted something. Then again, Dumbledore was always doing something important. Draco settled beside him and immediately reached for the tray of tea and cakes set for them. Snape sat a little behind them, unmoving. 

"Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore. 

Seeing as Draco was too busy eating, Harry shook his head for both of them. He ducked as something flew over his head but before he could turn to examine it Dumbledore was already speaking.

"How have your studies been going, Harry?" the headmaster asked leaning forward on the desk bright blue eyes watching him astutely from behind his half-moon glasses. 

Harry had a feeling he knew why he had been called here and though he was nervous, he knew it had to be done. 

 _Better the devil you know,_ they said. 

And Harry hoped it was true.

"Alright." 

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm glad you took the time to stop by, there is much to discuss," he said looking at Draco now. 

There was a harrumph from a nearby portrait and the face of a large familiar looking man came into view. "Needs to be taught some manners that one, if you ask me," the man muttered. 

"Thank you, Phineas," Dumbledore said holding up his hand. 

Of course, Phineas Nigellus Black. He'd seen his portrait at Grimmauld Place, that's why he looked familiar. 

Draco set down the empty cup and wiped the crumbs of cake on his lips with the back of his hand. It was an endearingly childish action. His stomach plummeted to his feet however, at the seriousness in Dumbledore's eyes and the stiffness of Draco's posture. There were several other things they would both rather be doing than having this conversation it seemed. 

"How much do you know about werewolves, Draco?"

Harry saw him cringe. "Not much."

"I thought so. I will not bore you with the finer details of lycanthropy, as we speak Madam Pince has a list of books I have authorised to be removed from the Restricted Section for your benefit," he said clasping his hands together. "You may return them as soon as you have finished with them."

"Surely Albus you don't mean to say one of these boys is a- a werewolf?" asked Phineas with a mixture of horror and surprise. 

"That is exactly the case," Dumbledore replied. 

There were shocked gasps from several other portraits. 

Draco visibly tamped down on his anger the best he could. Clearly Phineas Nigellus Black was not endearing himself to him either. "Then why am I here?" 

"You are here," he said without a trace of unkindness or severity, "because I need to discuss the integral points of your condition with you."

Draco tried to ignore the implications of the word 'condition'. 

He gestured to Harry. "Does he need to be here?"

"Would you prefer he wasn't?" asked Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow. 

For a moment there was a malicious glint in Draco's eye. "Yes."

Phineas gasped. "The audacity, to think a Malfoy of all people..."

Dumbledore smiled at Draco. "I'm glad you're learning to express yourself."

Harry couldn't help a small smile. 

"As I was saying, werewolves are very complex creatures and even now we do not know all that there is to know about them. We do know, however, that they are like humans in many aspects. Over the course of the next few weeks you will find yourself in a constant battle to leash your temper. You cannot give into the desire to maim, it is imperative that you keep a level head, create a ritual if you have to."

"A ritual?"

"Myself, I prefer to count to ten in all the languages I know," he said as though disclosing a secret. 

Harry found himself wondering just how many languages the headmaster could speak. 

"You will also, if you haven't as of yet, feel the pull towards a mate-"

Draco froze although he had known this was coming. "A mate," he said carefully. 

"Yes. It is nothing unusual, all werewolves feel it. You will not choose who it is, as you can imagine, but your senses will begin to get affected around them and you will feel the urge to be close to them... scowl all you like Draco but it is not something you can resist for long, you may try but it will not bode well for either you or your mate.

"You will also need to drink wolfsbane once a month an hour prior to your shift, I trust you will do so as I will not put the lives of my students in danger because of a mere slip."

Draco struggled to wrap his mind around everything Dumbledore had just said. Granted, it was common knowledge but he had never stopped to think about it because he had never imagined he would turn into a werewolf. Now he was being informed that he would have to take a mate and that he would have no choice about who it would be, what if he couldn't stand the person? Actually, he already knew he couldn't stand the person. 

It was preposterous. 

"If you have no questions you may leave, I'm sure you have other commitments."

Draco started to get up. 

"Professor, I have a feeling Draco is already aware of who his mate is," Snape interjected from behind them. 

Harry saw Malfoy bite back a curse. "I, er-" He was looking at Snape like he wanted to murder him, Harry wasn't sure anyone was allowed to look at Snape that way. 

"If master Malfoy is uncomfortable with such a topic-"

"It's fucking, Potter!" he exclaimed. "Quit acting like you didn't know, why else would you allow him to stay here?"

Dumbledore was unfazed by this outburst and his language, but Harry wasn't about to sit back and let it happen. Sure, Dumbledore hadn't been speaking to him much, they hadn't been on the best terms but Draco ought to show him a little respect. 

"Don't talk to him like that."

"Got a problem with it, Potter?"

"Clear-" he paused as he realised exactly what Draco had just said. "Did you say mate?"

Harry thought he saw something soften at the edges of Draco's eyes but the blonde turned his head away as if he could feel it too. "Yes. Do you have a problem with that as well?" he spat. 

He turned to him then, pale grey eyes daring him to answer in the affirmative. 

He shouldn't have had to think about it yet he found himself saying, "I-"

"Draco, Harry," Dumbledore said raising a placating hand. "Settle down, please."

Harry thought he could see Snape smirk. It made him want to retch. 

Harry settled down into his seat reluctantly, Draco did the same. 

"What exactly does it mean, being his mate?" asked Harry. 

"Well," said Dumbledore. "You two will have to complete the bond that has been initiated-"

"I didn't start anything," Draco said indignantly. 

"Are you completely certain? Did you touch Harry at any point and time during your shift perhaps?"

Draco froze. 

"I may have-"

"You were feeling me up?" demanded Harry his eyes wide. 

"You watched me get undressed!" returned the other boy. "And no, I did not feel you up, that would be... improper."

Improper? 

_Really?_

"Can we talk about this later?" asked Draco rubbing his temples. 

"I think I have a right to know if I'm going to be your mate," Harry said. 

Draco got to his feet shakily, ignoring Harry. He clutched at the wall for support, his eyes practically begged for Harry to let it rest, for Dumbledore to dole out his long-deserved punishment for wandering into the Forbidden Forest in the first place because Circe... he deserved- would deserve- it and much more. He wasn't sure- no he was very sure, he did not want to think about this sober. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler. Sorry. I need to set the stage before all the drama unfolds because istg when it does no one will remain unscathed. 
> 
> Not even you. 
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_There's a drumming noise in my head and it starts when you're around_  
_Swear that you could hear it_  
_It makes such an almighty sound_  
_There's a drumming noise inside my head, it throws me to the ground_  
_Swear that you should hear it_  
_It makes such an almighty sound_  
_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells_  
_Sweeter than heaven  
_ _Hotter than hell_

**Drumming Sound  
Florence + the Machine**

**Word count: 2782**

Quidditch practice was a wet, soggy affair and if there was anyone who despised being wet and soggy, it was Draco Malfoy but the rains had come, nothing could be done about it. Similarly, the first game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin was in a week, as a result, the captain: Arthur Stone was working them to the bone every spare moment they had. He had gone so far as to book the pitch all five days of the week. A tad excessive but Draco was keeping his mouth shut on the matter. 

For now. 

He had retained his previous position as seeker on the team, a real surprise since he had failed to show up for tryouts not to mention the fact that he frequently questioned the captain's authority. He had expected to be benched at the very least but apparently, he would be making an appearance in the next match. Though that could be solely due to his appearance. 

Since the shift, he had gained quite a bit more muscle mass, a large appetite and his skin was no longer as gaunt as it had been. He preened over it in private but took it in stride the rest of the time, even Blaise's jaw dropped a few mornings ago, he could remember it quite clearly. 

"Have you seen my Quick Quotes Quill?" asked Blaise as he tossed clothes in the air moving through the dorm in frustration. 

Draco fastened his tie as he walked out of the bathroom. 

"Quick Quotes Quill?" he asked. He had never known Blaise to own one but he could see how he would if he had time to complete his homework and plenty leftover to... well, be himself. 

"Yes, the one I use when I have to catch up on homework during History of-" he stated a little harshly but stopped when he whirled around and stared at Draco as if he had grown a second head overnight. 

Draco merely smirked and stuffed his books into his bag. 

"You were saying?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow still aware that things were not fully fixed between them. 

Blaise frowned then shook his head abruptly. "Never mind, I'll just have to borrow your notes for Binns' class later."

"The usual then," he said before leaving the dorm. 

It had not been the only incident, the wide eyes and looks of suspicion on their way to many a meal had been an indication that his change had not gone unnoticed. There was no satisfying hush as he swaggered into the Great Hall but the stares spoke volumes more than silence ever could. 

_"You appear to be settling in well," Pansy said in reference to his shift as he sat down._

_Draco shrugged. "It's part of the package," he said in an aloof tone._

_She rolled her eyes._

_"How was it though?" she asked leaning close. "You didn't spend the night in the dungeons, people are talking."_

_"They think you have your eye on Anika Moran," supplied Blaise staring at his eggs._

_Draco wrinkled his nose and thought his response out carefully before saying, "The Ravenclaw?"_

_"Same thing I thought," muttered Blaise, "one does not start such things lightly."_

The memory made Draco chuckle as he made his way out of the changing rooms with his broom in hand. Theodore Nott fell into step beside him. 

"Something funny?" he asked. 

Draco shook his head his expression suddenly guarded. "Nothing."

Nott looked like he wanted to press the matter but seemed to think better of it. The wind howled and raked through their hair, the rain was not making it any better. 

"Stone's out of his mind," Nott said shaking his head. 

"Hmm," Draco said looking at the grass beneath his feet. 

Theodore did not say anything more after that. The Slytherin team gathered at one end of the pitch in a semicircle with Stone at the centre. He talked strategy for five minutes directing chasers and beaters to different ends of the pitch. He might have said something to Draco but it was only on a rare occasion that he paid the captain any mind so he couldn't be certain. As the seeker, he had the great benefit of non conformity, he did not have to stick within a certain area of the pitch or look out for anything but bludgers and the snitch. 

"Everyone clear on the plan?"

There was a chorus of assent. 

Stone eyed Draco who was purposefully gazing at the sky. 

He mounted his broom along with everyone else and watched as Stone released the balls, all except the snitch of course- they had realised a long time ago that the thing was far more trouble than it was worth. So he hovered in the air, did a few laps round the pitch then watched the game absentmindedly. A bludger came rushing at him, he ducked. Someone shouted an apology but it was too dark to see who. 

The rain pounded heavily against Draco's back, his flying leathers stuck uncomfortably to his skin. After a few more laps around the pitch, he slowed down and landed on the pitch. As fate would have it, Stone spotted him, he motioned for Draco to get back in the air but the blonde shook his head and took a seat on the bench no longer aware of the rain as a livid looking Stone approached. 

"Back on your broom, Malfoy," he shouted above the sound of the rain. 

"No thank you, I'd rather not waste my energy if I'm going to be doing nothing."

Stone's jaw hardened. "Back. On. Your. Broom."

Draco stood at the command. Somewhere along the line Stone had forgotten who he was, some line of formality had been crossed, he would set it right. "No."

The larger boy glared. 

Practice had come to a halt by now, several players were landing on the pitch, among them Theodore, to catch a glimpse of what it was this time. Draco knew he was on his last straw with the captain, this would likely earn him a seat on the bench but something in him would not let him let this go, Stone was questioning him, dammit!

"I will not ask you again," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Draco," began Theodore. 

"Malfoy," he spat. 

Theodore seemed taken aback by the outburst, his lips pressed into a firm line, he stepped back. 

"Am I expected to simply hover in the air, why should I waste energy on something so pointless?" he demanded. 

It was an unnecessary argument but Stone pushed it nonetheless, he was tired of having his authority questioned and Malfoy pushed it because... because Stone didn't know what he was saying anyway and he was right. Stone glared at him for a long while. 

"Benched," he proclaimed. 

There was a gasp. Even Draco felt a jolt of surprise course through him. 

Theodore stepped forward. "You can't be serious-"

He grinned maliciously as though he'd found Draco's weak spot. "For the rest of the season."

Everyone seemed to want to speak all at once but Stone silenced them all with a look. 

"In the air, the rest of the you."

"You can say goodbye to the house cup," Draco called as he strolled away, it was a coveted object by all previous Slytherin captains, this one was no different. 

"One more word and you can say goodbye to your position as seeker, Malfoy."

He chuckled darkly, turned around to face Stone, rivulets of icy water worming their way down his face. 

"Who's going to kick me off the team, you?"

"Careful there, Malfoy, you may not be able to buy your way onto the team again, Daddy's in a bit of trouble, isn't he?" he said. 

He had his wand out long before Stone could think to get his. _"Impedimentia."_

Stone was thrown back four feet but Draco did not leave it at that, he stalked toward him ignoring the shouts of the other players. He had suffered this poor excuse of a captain long enough, that he had the nerve to dare speak about his father... oh, it was a big mistake on his part. 

_"Levicorpus," he said as the boy scrambled for his wand._

There was a flash of blinding light, the length of wood slipped out of his grasp and he was dangled up side down in the air. His eyes were wide with fear, his body shivering from a mixture of fear and cold, he was panting. Draco heard someone call his name but ignored the sound. 

"Don't you _ever,_ talk about my father again if you value your life, am I clear?" he said with barely restrained fury. 

Through the curtain of rain separating them, Draco saw Stone nodded fearfully. 

{HPDM}

Draco was feeling far more satisfied than he should have, Stone had been a thorn in his side since fifth year, he should have dealt with him a long time ago. The wave of euphoria didn't last long however, as he realised just how cold and uncomfortable he was. A visit to the kitchens for a cup of tea followed by a stop by the library sounded good. He would read the  books Dumbledore had mentioned and perhaps Remus Lupin's notes again, he had been in a right state the last time. 

Dark hair, green eyes. 

Draco's gaze snapped to attention. Potter was making his way towards him looking rather downcast, if he could say so. 

"Potter," he said when they were about four feet away from each other.

The dark-haired boy looked up in surprise, Draco thought the same expression must be mirrored on his face because he could not for the love of Merlin think what had made him do that. 

"Malfoy," he said carefully. He seemed to be looking for something in his eyes. 

He rolled his eyes and said without thinking, "I haven't-" he stopped himself before he could continue because who was Potter that he had to answer to him for his actions?

"Why?" he asked

"Why what?" he snapped. "Do try to be more articulate if you hope to converse with me."

Potter seemed to hesitate for a moment, he lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head and Draco caught a whiff of something like sandalwood, broom-cleaning fluid and... he couldn't identify the other scent. It was an intoxicating mixture. He leaned back with a start, had he scented Potter again? It seemed that the part of him that wanted his mate would do almost anything in Potter's presence

Potter bit his lip, Draco did not stare. "We need to... er, talk- about the mate thing and all."

It could be his imagination but Malfoy thought the distance between him and Potter had lessened. Had he moved forward or had Potter? Or was he imagining it?

"How about tomorrow? Ten o'clock the prefect's bathroom. _Sine bene,"_ he said intending to sound aloof but his voice was too hoarse. 

Had he lost us mind? _Get a grip,_ he chided. 

Why the bloody hell had he suggested ten o'clock? Potter would think he wanted to kill him or something. Merlin, couldn't he think about what he said before he said it?

"I-uh...Ten o'clock?" he asked his expression changing to one of suspicion. 

"Yes," Draco said though with none of the malice he'd had before. "Some of us are actually busy during the day you know."

"How'd you know I'm not busy at night?" he asked. 

Draco felt his lips pulling into a smirk. 

"Touché," he said crossing his arms. "I can't believe Harry Potter is getting more action than me."

"You're too picky to get any action."

"Too picky?" asked Draco trying to ignore the small flare of jealousy that flamed in his heart. "As opposed to having no standards?"

"I mean you don't compromise."

"I can compromise," said Draco but he knew it wasn't true. 

"Sure," Harry said as he continued down the hallway and Malfoy had to bite down the urge to follow, Merlin knows he would do something stupid. 

{HPDM}

Harry walked down the corridor wondering what had just happened. He had been on his way back to the Gryffindor Tower from the library after telling Hermione that he couldn't read anymore when he had- in what was becoming a regular occurrence- run into Malfoy. Harry didn't know if he was imagining it but the blonde seemed less vile. 

Surely it wasn't because they were... they were mates, was it? Malfoy had seemed positively reviled by the idea back in Dumbledore's office. 

Harry wasn't exactly all for it either. 

He had told Ron and Hermione that he had gone to bed early on the night he'd followed Malfoy into the Forbidden Forest and  while Ron had believed this easily, Hermione had taken some convincing. 

_"But I didn't see you at breakfast the next morning," she said._

_"I had to... er, send an owl."_

_She frowned._

_"To who?" she asked._

_Now that Sirius was gone, who exactly would he be sending an owl to? He wished he'd thought his response through._

_"Lupin," he lied._

_At once Hermione's dubious expression vanished and her eyes softened. "Oh Harry," she said and he had the distinct impression that she was happy to see him owling someone after Sirius' passing. She hadn't questioned him any further on the matter._

_Ron meanwhile, was rapidly glancing over at Hermione's Charms essay while she and Harry were talking and wouldn't have been caught if Madam Pince hadn't shown up to shush them and Hermione spotted him from the corner of her eye. As soon as Madam Pince left, Hermione began to scold him in a whisper. Harry had gotten back to work then._

Now, Sunday evening, he wondered what Malfoy would say to him. It obviously had to do with them being mates and Harry did not want to have that conversation with him? What did it mean to be a werewolf's mate anyway? He should ask Hermione- no, she didn't know yet and he wondered when he would pluck up the courage to tell his friends. He could just see their reactions. 

 "Mate?" Ron would sputter. 

 "What do you mean mate, Harry?"Hermione would ask. 

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and she swung aside to let him pass. He made his way for the dormitory uninterrupted and dumped his books on his bed. 

 "Hi Harry," someone said. 

Harry spun round startled. He hadn't noticed anyone else in the dorm. 

 "Oh, hello Neville," he said. 

Neville waved over a book he was reading. Harry peered at it but couldn't make out the title. 

 "So," he said in an effort to fill in the silence. "How've you been getting on?"

 "Good," Neville said shutting his book and setting it down on his bed. He seemed to have been waiting for someone to ask from his enthusiasm. "I asked Luna out you know."

Harry smiled, genuinely happy for him. It wasn't everyone that saw through Neville's exterior and he and Luna seemed oddly suited for each other. 

 "That's great. Did she say yes?"

Neville beamed and nodded furiously. 

 "Yeah she did. I asked her to come with me to Hogsmeade next time, it's still a bit early I know but she said yes and she said she'd show me how to spot nargles and wackspurts."

Harry laughed. 

 "Good for you Neville," he said. 

He thought of finding a date himself but Neville was right, he had weeks before the next Hogsmeade weekend and with everything going on, he didn't think he had time for a girlfriend. Especially not after what had happened with Cho last year. 

Neville seemed to notice Harry's shift in attention and went back to his book with a slight smile in his face. Ron arrived half an hour later with a weary look on his face. He set his book bag down by his bed and sighed. 

 "I can't believe she wouldn't let it go," he said running his hand over his features. "I only copied and inch of her work!"

 "You know how Hermione is," said Harry who had already changed and was lounging on his bed in flannel pajamas. 

Ron shook his head. 

 "I'm beat," he said. "See you tomorrow?" 

Harry nodded. 

 "Yeah, see you..." 

He couldn't stop thinking about his meeting with Malfoy. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild (very mild) smut. Seriously, it's not even smut. 
> 
> Also, I borrowed a line from Sherlock Holmes (2009 film). Ok it was three lines but yeah. I do not claim ownership of those lines, they belong to their rightful writers. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy and TTM!
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_Mama always told me,_  
_papa always warned me:  
_ _don't hang around boys like you._

**Boys Like You  
 360 **

**Word Count: 4610**

_Harry traced his tongue along the corner of Draco's lips. His tongue, like the rest of him, was warm and oddly soft. Each spot it left was cold and desolate. Draco could not help a shiver, his arms rose of their own accord to encircle Harry's torso, gripping tightly, nails digging into flesh whilst pulling him closer._

_He could feel Harry's adam's apple against his cheek when he chuckled._

_"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispered tongue slipping into Draco's ear._

_A moan was all the answer he got and it evoked another throaty laugh._

_Harry's hands reached beneath the hem of his t-shirt gripping the warm sensitive flesh of Draco's abdomen. He gasped and Harry took the opportunity to kiss him, his tongue slipping into his mouth._

_"Ungh..." Draco was saying his hands digging deeper and stepper into Harry's skin. "Potter..."_

_"Harry," he whispered gently his hands slipping past the band of his trousers._

Draco sat bolt upright. 

He looked down at the damp sheets and realised with horror that he was hard. For Potter of all people. He felt like he was going to throw up. He felt dirty, soiled. Not by the fact that he'd just had a wet dream about another boy but that that boy was Potter of all the bloody people in the world. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Even if it was, it wasn't like he could very well do anything about it. 

Potter was his mate certainly but the two of them had yet to come to an understanding and Draco doubted the Gryffindor would be willing to offer casual sex just to satisfy his needs. Definitely not. The thought that Potter had ventured into the pleasures of the flesh made Draco wonder just what Potter could do, if he would be dominant like he had been in the dream. Or was he more of the compliant type? He licked his lips unknowingly. 

Draco personally preferred to top but he wouldn't mind if someone- _Potter,_ his mind supplied- topped. It would be interesting. It wasn't like he hadn't bottomed for people before anyway. 

He cast a quick scorgify and headed to the bathroom where he attended to his needs then proceeded to scrub himself clean of all Potter's lingering effects after which he threw on a fresh pair of robes. He lingered by his trunk trying to decide whether or not to take a swig of the rum he'd hidden there but thought twice about it, Snape would smell it on him instantly. As silent as he could, he made his way down the stairs to the common room where there were some people already awake padding around in pyjamas or lounging on couches with some reading; it was early, even for a weekday but there was no way Draco was going back to sleep if he was going to have another... incident. 

He barely hesitated to sprint down the corridors at full speed, down, down, down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom behind which were his godfather's quarters. By the time he got there his breath was coming out in short huffs. He took a minute to catch his breath, smooth his uniform and pat down his behead before he threw open the door and strode to the back of the class. He only had to knock twice. 

To his credit, Snape looked as he always did, dressed head to toe in black, his greasy hair smoothed back, his lips pulled downwards in a frown. 

"As your godfather, I did take the initiative to assist raising you properly but I cannot ever recall agreeing to house calls at ungodly hours of the morning," he said surveying Draco severely. 

Draco sighed. 

"It's important, Severus."

The defense master eyed Draco for a moment before he stepped aside to let him pass. "That's professor Snape to you," he said as he shut the door. 

Draco dropped into a dark leather sofas (the only one in the room), his mask of cool nonchalance slipping on easily. He'd done this so many times it had become a part of him. 

"You can drop the act, uncle, we're alone here."

Snape's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I could say the same for you."

Malfoy sighed again. 

"Fine," he said restraining his worry by a tight leash. 

"Good." He pulled a stool toward him, took a seat. "Now that that's out of the way, what by Merlin's great name convinced you to come here at this hour?"

"I need a favour."

Snape made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. "I thought Malfoys didn't ask for favours."

Draco waved the comment away. "My father likes to think himself invincible."

Snape's look said: _And you don't_ but Draco chose to ignore that. 

He plucked at his sleeve. "I need a sleeping draught."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Draco shifted nervously. "I've been having trouble sleeping," he muttered staring at anything but his godfather. 

"Then fly around the grounds or do whatever it is you people do to tire yourselves these days," he said. "I will not prescribe a highly addictive potion to an underage wizard." 

"It's not a matter of weariness per se."

Snape pitched forward, his hands on his knees. 

"Then what is it?"

"As you know, I've recently become a... werewolf," began Draco half choking out the word. "And certain effects are to be expected-"

"Get to the point, Draco."

"I've been having dreams."

Snape watched him like he was a particularly tricky potion to brew, the room suddenly felt too small; Snape's keen gaze on him felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching him. Draco suddenly remembered that he'd forgotten to put on deodorant. He didn't know why that thought came to mind at that moment, it just did. 

"What kind of dreams?" he asked slowly. 

Draco's features melded into a scowl. "The bad kind."

Snape pinched his eyebrows. "I'm going to need you to need a little more than that, Draco."

Draco chewed on his lower lip, his throat felt dry, like sandpaper, his fingers were twitching, he recognised all the signs and wanted desperately to steal away somewhere and have a drink. 

"The erotic kind."

His godfather's expression did not change in fact, one would think he had not heard Draco's words but he was too weary to repeat himself. He should have sated the urge when he had the chance. 

"Hmm," Snape said his gaze on a bookshelf to his left. "I did read about this, to be honest I expected this to happen..."

 _And you still made me say it? What a Slytherin,_ he found himself thinking. 

"So?" demanded Draco. "Does this mean you'll brew me the potion?" Chances were slim but he was counting on the fact that Snape would do almost anything to ease his transition into his new state. "A dreamless sleeping draught would be good." 

"As I am no longer this school's potions master, I suggest you try Madam Pomfrey."

Draco almost couldn't believe it. 

"The woman hates me, Severus. You expect me to ask her to brew me such a potion?" He would have done it himself but some of the ingredients required could only be found in Snape's- Slughorn's now- cupboard. The techniques used required an expert brewer as well and while he knew he was better than most of the students at Hogwarts, he wasn't sure he was ready for such a potion, yet. 

"It's the name she hates, Draco," Snape said rising from the stool. 

He ambled to a cupboard which he held his wand to and murmured an incantation. The lock clicked, Snape pulled aside the wood to reveal a well-stocked liquor cabinet. Draco couldn't help a frown.  

That was odd. 

"I didn't know you kept it locked."

Snape finished pouring himself a brandy before he returned to his desk. The mask had slipped more now, Draco could see how weary his godfather really was though not much more than that as the lighting was low. 

"Security measures," he said after a sip. "I'm sure you understand, no?"

Draco froze, his blood run cold at Snape's comment yet the man didn't seem to notice any change in his godson and if he did he showed no sign of it as he sipped his brandy in silence. What could possibly have motivated him to say something of that sort? Weeks ago, he had questioned Draco about it, albeit indirectly, and he had denied it. He was certain his godfather knew nothing about it or if he did it was merely a suspicion. Had that statement been aimed at him? After all, Draco could not say he knew what he meant; the cellar and various liquor cabinets in Malfoy Manor were always left unlocked. 

"I'm not sure I understand," he forced himself to say because the silence had began to drag on far too long. 

Snape shrugged, an oddly relaxed action. "I had a feeling."

He chased down the rest of the brandy with a sigh of satisfaction. "Is that all you had to speak to me about, or was there something other than the erotic dreams?"

Draco blushed, the comment managed to ease some of the tension in his muscles but unfortunately it brought back the image of Potter and him shirts hanging open, breath short, cheeks flushed... Hands everywhere... 

_Snap out of it._

He fingered the signet ring he wore on his index finger thoughtfully. "Well there was the matter of the silencing charm..."

Snape cocked his head to the side with a curious look. "It's not my area but I'm sure you wouldn't have brought it up unless it was implicitly necessary."

Draco nodded. "Of course."

He had learned that morning that he could in fact tell his godfather anything, somethings were just harder to voice than others. 

{HPDM}

"Oh God," Hermoine exclaimed from behind her copy of the Daily Prophet. 

"What?" questioned Ron urgently. "Has something happened?"

Harry too who had been in the process of finishing up his Transfigurations homework looked up. His fingers were stained with splotches of ink and his neck hurt from being bent at such an angle for long, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night either because he'd been finishing a Potions essay (after being unable to sleep) then Ron, in his excitement of having made the team, had insisted they talk strategy and Seamus wanted to know why he didn't have a problem with Ginny snogging Theodore Nott- a _Slytherin_. He rubbed his eyes, all in all, it had been a very long night. 

Hermoine took a sip of orange juice her eyes scanning the page furiously. 

"It says here that Bathilda Bagshot died last night," she said looking at Ron and Harry. 

They both cleared their throats and Ron rolled his eyes inconspicuously. He could care less about writers but Harry knew Hermione loved reading, the _Standard Book of Spells_ had gotten them through some tight spots so he said, "Really? What of?"

She shrugged her eyes traveling back to the paper. "It's still undetermined."

Harry dipped his quill into the bottle of ink. "She had children, right? Maybe one of them could take over her writing-"

Hermione shook her head. "It won't be the same."

Ron shook his head. "Relax, Hermione, she already had the Grade 7 books published-"

"You are completely insensitive sometimes," she hissed getting up from the table. 

"What? I didn't even-" he said to her retreating form then growled. "Girls."

"She'll forget about it," Harry said with about two inches to go. 

"Yeah, I know. What are you working on anyway?" asked Ron as he picked at strips of bacon. 

"Transfiguration," he said after a sip of ginger tea. 

He sensed Ron shiver. "Sorry, mate."

Harry shrugged as he scrawled out some more words. "It's nearly done anyway."

Ron didn't say anything at that and chose to continue eating his breakfast. Harry wasn't sure why he was working so diligently on the essay, the lesson was at the end of the day but he didn't want to push the work forward, the amount of work pending had already grown to nauseating pile. It made him cringe each time he completed some only for more to be added. He brought the essay to a rather mundane end which he didn't beat himself up too much over as he was hungry and definitely not in the mood. 

He rolled up the parchment, set it aside and filled his plate with French toast, warm croissants, fluffy pancakes and two sausages. 

He was going to need it for Defense. 

"Don't look now but that slimy git is looking at you," Ron said staring at something behind Harry. 

He instinctively turned ignoring Ron's warning and saw that Malfoy's gaze was indeed trained on him. He could hear Ron saying something but he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Malfoy, who despised and could not stand him, who took it upon himself to make Harry's life a living nightmare had been looking at him blankly. He looked like he had been thinking about something benevolent- if that were possible- while staring unknowingly at him. Harry's breath caught when Malfoy blinked and seemed to realise who he was staring at. 

There was no sneer, no glare. He thought he saw the corner Malfoy of Malfoy's lip inch upward- something that sent an indescribable feeling through his abdomen- but dismissed it as due to his lack of sleep. He stood up and left the Great Hall with his piece of parchment in hand much to Ron's chagrin. 

He did not make it far. 

"Potter," a familiar voice called. 

He stopped in his tracks but did not turn. 

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

The silence was peppered with the sounds of shoes clicking in the polished floor, footsteps approaching him until Malfoy stood before him, closer than was strictly necessary, Harry noticed but was too shocked to comment on it or give it much thought. The pale haired boy gave him a shamelessly thorough once over before looking at him. 

"What?" snapped Harry unable to deal with the other boy's scrutiny.   

It seemed to make him snap out whatever it was he had been doing, Harry watched as the coldness creeped back to his eyes. He slipped his hands into his pockets, his posture straightening ever so slightly. "Ten o'clock, I hope you haven't forgotten."

Then he was gone. 

{HPDM}

Harry was jerked awake by the sound of voices. He had fallen asleep on the sofa with in his lap, he marked the page he had been reading before he fell asleep then put the book aside. The voices in question were coming from the right side of the common room. He could see Parvati seated on the sofa  with Lavender at her feet. The dark haired girl was gesturing to something on a piece of parchment. 

Harry started and glanced at his watch. It was quarter to ten. He had spent the majority of his night debating about whether or not to go to the prefect's bathroom at ten. Clearly they needed to sort the whole being mates thing out but Malfoy was a prick and Harry didn't know if he could count on them to not come to blows five minutes into the conversation. Yeah, an actual conversation with Malfoy. Harry laughed bitterly. Yet, he couldn't help the curiosity bubbling at the back of his mind. In all his five years at Hogwarts he had never met Malfoy alone. He had always been surrounded by his posse, never had he cornered Harry like he had that morning or spoken to him in the absence of his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. 

He had eventually decided that he would go if only to satisfy his curiosity as to what Malfoy would say (and the possible chance of hexing him to tomorrow) and promised himself that if the Slytherin tried anything foolish then he would not resist the urge to hex him ten times over, detention or no. He could not, however, leave the common room when Parvati and Lavender were seated there so he forced himself to wait until they climbed up the stairs to their dorm, by then it was already half past ten o'clock. He placed his book on the table which had some of Ron's work along with his quills and a bottle of ink then grabbed his invisibility cloak and threw it over his head. 

Harry tip-toed across the empty common room pleased that the Fat Lady chose not to say anything and wake the other portraits as he left. He had been to the prefect's bathroom before back in third year when Cedric... Harry stopped. He didn't want to think about that now. It was part of the past and he swore he would put it behind him. He forced himself to continue, keeping an eye out for Filch and Mrs. Norris as he made his way up the stairs; once he thought he heard something which caused him to lose his footing and nearly trip. 

"Who's there?" demanded a tall lanky man from one of the portraits. He was dressed in sixteenth century style clothing and had a long unkempt beard. 

"There's no one here, William. I swear you're getting more paranoid every day," said a young lady from Harry's other side. Unlike him, she was dressed in a more recent style of wizard's robes though underneath them she wore a nightgown. 

Their conversation did not end there but Harry forced himself to ignore the bit about the light his wand was emitting and walked on. He creeped past the statue of Boris the Bewildered and headed straight to the fourth door behind which he knew he would find the Prefects' Bathroom. Harry  cast about for the password, Malfoy wouldn't expect him to know it. He must have mentioned at some point but Harry had been too stunned by their conversation to pay attention. He was about to curse when Malfoy's words flashed through his mind. 

 'Ten o'clock. Prefect's bathroom...'

 _"Sine bene,"_ he whispered as loud as he dared. 

"Late night dip, eh?" the man in the portrait said with a sly grin. "Your partner's already in there, have fun."

Harry nearly choked. 

Partner?

"We're not-"

"Oh go ahead you. The water's getting cold not to mention I'd like to sleep," the man said. 

Harry was forced to step through the portrait hole, his invisibility cloak bundled in his arm. The first thing that struck him was that it was enormous. He had been here before obviously but that was two years ago. He didn't think he could remember how it looked then. He took it in like he was seeing it for the first time, majority of the room was occupied by a large tub that closely resembled a swimming pool with various taps along its edges. There were various racks for towels and clothing as well as several benches one of which Malfoy currently sat. He stood when Harry walked in and even from the low light of the room Harry could see that he was still in his uniform which was as neat as it had been in the morning. Merlin, he even had his tie on. 

"You're late."

The words left his lips before he could stop them. "You should be grateful that I chose to come."

Malfoy laughed a sharp mirthless laugh. "Saviour Boy here thinks those lesser than him should be grateful for his mere presence."

Harry hated that, he absolutely despised it when Malfoy called him names. Sure, people did it all the time, even the Prophet rarely called him anything other than 'The Boy who Lived' or 'The Chosen One', but when Malfoy did it he managed to make it sound revolting, like it was something Harry should be embarrassed about. 

Unknowingly, he took a step closer. 

"I said not to call me names," he said his voice dangerously low. 

Malfoy eyes glinted in the dim light as he grinned. "As I recall, you specifically said not to call you Golden Boy or Wonder Boy. You didn't say anything about-"

"If you called me here to call me names then I'm leaving," Harry said annoyed that he had wasted his time coming all the way to the prefects' bathroom. 

"I wouldn't need to meet you at night in a prefect's bathroom to call you names, Potter."

A glare. "What then?"

A step closer, clenched fists. His deep grey eyes spoke of restrained emotion carefully hidden behind a mask, shoved down the deep dark hole that was his soul. "You're the one that wanted to talk."

_Yeah until you took me seriously and set up a bloody meeting in the dead of the night._

 "Yes but you're forgetting I don't know anything about werewolves. If anything, you should be doing the talking," Harry pointed out. 

 "Fair enough," Malfoy grudgingly admitted crossing his arms. 

He tapped his fingers together, forced himself to take a step back, they were too close. So close that Harry could smell the mixture of pine, ink and expensive cologne. The room had began to feel stuffy, as though someone had taken a bath and forgotten to open the windows. 

"Well, the concept of a mate is pretty simple," he began. "It's like any other magical bond you've heard of. It's created between two people and lasts for life. It can only be broken by death."

_Something like marriage then. Or what marriage is supposed to be._

 "The process of forging the bond is detailed and very ritualistic but in few words it involves marking, vows and a few other things..."

 "A few other things," Harry repeated. "Thanks, that cleared up a lot."

Malfoy glared at him. "You may as well just read about it yourself. I'm sure Dumbledore won't deny his precious puppet anything."

Harry seethed at these words and Malfoy seemed pleased at having elicited such a reaction. 

 "Shut up, Malfoy."

 "Oh? I thought you wanted me to talk a few minutes ago. Make up your fucking mind, Potter."

Harry was torn between confusion at Malfoy's sudden temper and his anger at him for talking about Dumbledore in such a derogatory manner. _Dumbledore or you?_ the voice in his head questioned. 

_Both._

 "Whatever," Harry said not willing to take the bait. "Anything else?"

Malfoy's glare remained. Clearly he had expected Harry to rise to his words. 

Malfoy nodded. "We need to work out some ground rules."

"What for?" asked Harry a little surprised. 

"I will not answer that."

Harry's eyes narrowed. At this point he was about ready to tackle Malfoy to the ground. "Well then how do you expect me to know what the bloody hell you're talking about?"

Malfoy looked down at him. "You're really are daft sometimes Potter," he said. 

Harry clenched his fists. He knew Malfoy was purposefully riling him up because he had refused to take the bait earlier and as much as he didn't want things to get out of hand he didn't think he could be blamed if they did at this stage. 

 "What do we need ground rules for?" he asked again. "I thought we were doing nothing about it."

Draco rolled his eyes but there was something else there, something that looked suspiciously like disappointment. Harry dismissed it as an effect of the poor lighting. 

 "Something has to happen, Potter. This is powerful magic, a binding contract, it won't allow us to sit back and do nothing."

Right. Harry had forgotten that part. 

 "Did you not hear what Dumbledore said about the bond?"

 "Of course I did," he replied. 

What had Dumbledore said? Harry tried to remember. It had been something about Draco borrowing books from the library, a bond being initiated... yes, that was it. A bond had been initiated which would have to be completed. Something about not being able to ignore the bond. 

 "Then you know we have to do something about it."

 "Yeah but what?" he asked still a little annoyed at Malfoy but more worried about what was now starting to look like a lifetime commitment with the Oh-So-Mighty biggest prat of Slytherin. 

He was sixteen for Merlin's sake. 

He shouldn't be thinking about this. Then again, he shouldn't have survived a killing curse either and he shouldn't have to battle the deadliest wizard to ever live so he supposed he should only expect his life to get more bizarre from this point on. 

 "Like I said: ground rules."

Harry didn't want to, he didn't want to have to act differently around Malfoy, it confused him. He was used to the insults, the glares, the attacks and the thought of venturing into new territory terrified him. But change had already taken place, the night he'd followed Malfoy into the Forbidden Forest everything had changed and he would have to live with the consequences of his actions for there was no denying that if he hadn't followed Malfoy then they wouldn't be in this situation. 

 "First of all: no touching unless expressly allowed."

 "Touching?" Harry echoed. "Why would we need to-?"

Malfoy sighed contemptuously. "Your lack of knowledge is insulting, Potter."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "I said I'd read the bloody books alright? Just..." Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, "break everything down for me."

Malfoy looked at him oddly. 

Harry ignored this. 

 "It's common for mates to want to engage in a lot of touching, especially unbounded and newly bonded mates. For the werewolf it has something to do with marking territory and staking claim and for the... er, you it's more of a way to seek affection and assurance," he said his tone lacking any of the menace it had before.

 "Me?" Harry let out silently. 

Touching... Malfoy?

 "Obviously. I'm not going to be mated to a bloody wall am I?"

Harry couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped his lips weak as it was. When he looked up he was surprised to see that Malfoy was smiling. It was a slight smile, a little hesitant and his eyes were looking anywhere but at him and Harry couldn't help but think that was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 "That would be... unfortunate."

Malfoy finally looked at him then and all too soon the smile fell from his lips. 

 "Second: we can't speak about this in public. I'm supposing you've already told Weasel and the Mud- er, Granger."

 "Don't call him that," Harry said still coming out of his dazed state. 

 "I'll call him what I like."

This snapped Harry back to reality fast. His hand itched for his wand. 

 "Stop it."

 "Stop what?"

 "Stop being so... so annoying."

Malfoy scoffed. "You can't tell me what to be."

Harry took out his wand. Malfoy's eyes flicked from it to Harry's face and this time there was rage in there. There were no soft edges, there was no hesitation, no goading. Malfoy was angry and the thought brought Harry some sick pleasure. He wasn't the only one that wanted to punch someone. 

 "Don't you dare, Potter," he said vehemently. 

Harry threw his words back at him.  "I'll do what I like."

Malfoy glared. 

Harry glared back. 

 "Get that out of my face," he spat. 

 "It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

 "Get what's in your hand out of my face."

Harry lowered his wand. 

 "Forget this," he said turning around. "I'm leaving."

 "I haven't finished, Potter," said Malfoy. 

 "I don't care," Harry said and left the room. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ron take Divination in this fic because... plot. All the hardcore fans out there, don't hate me. Or hate me. Like I said, you'll be crying by the end of this fic anyway  ;D
> 
> Don't run away guys, ily.
> 
> TW for mentions of selfharm. Nothing major though. 

_Cause I wanna be someone worthy of your conversation._

**Leeward Side  
Josh Pyke**

**Word count: 6590**

It was a chilly October day and despite the cold, the Divination classroom was warm and musty. The humidity in the room had students loosening their ties and unbuttoning their shirts in frustration. The roaring fire in the hearth and Professor Trewlaney's burning herbs didn't help either.

"I must say," said the old seer as she unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. "I was not expecting such a big turnout but you know what they say: the sky's the limit."

"I'm pretty sure that saying has nothing to do with Divination and everything with muggles," muttered Harry. 

Ron nodded. "It's only to be expected of course."

Parvati Patil motioned for them to be quiet and the two boys settled down for the longest lesson of their lives. 

Harry loosened his tie and popped open the first two buttons of his shirt. His cloak lay discarded on the back of his chair. It was simply stuffy in the room but when Hannah Abbot had asked Trelawney if they could open the windows she firmly cautioned them against it claiming it would cause the essence of their foresight to flutter away to the verdant grass of the Quidditch pitch. Ron had sniggered, about to say something about this but the Divination professor had fixed him with a firm glare and he had kept silent. 

Unfortunately, now that she had mentioned Quidditch, Harry found himself unable to focus on the lesson. Even as Trelawney began handing out packs of tarot cards per pair all Harry could think was that the Slytherin team had been getting much more practice this term than the Gryffindor team which incidentally, he was in charge of. They had booked the pitch for nearly every day of the week last week (and probably this week too danmit). Harry had even glimpsed them flying once. 

They would not be as easy to beat this season. 

He'd left most of the managing in Ginny's hands which he'd thought at the time was a good idea (not that he didn't think so at the moment) and they'd only practiced a total of five times since term began which was one and a half months ago. Sure, it was still early, they had two months to their first game but Slytherin was practicing every day, it made Harry question why they weren't. Usually he busied himself with the coaching aspect of it all and the new recruits had been getting better, he just wasn't sure if it would be good enough to beat Slytherin. 

On the bright side, he'd heard that Malfoy had been benched. Not that he took pleasure in others' displeasure (even though Malfoy deserved it and no, Harry was not still upset about the incident in the prefects's bathroom because that would mean he cared. And he didn't.) but as much as he was loath to admit it, Malfoy as seeker was a force to reckon with and with everything on his plate, he wasn't sure he was in the right shape to take him on. He could imagine how much gloating the Slytherins would subject him (and the rest of Hogwarts) to if he lost. 

That single thought was what made Harry vow to train even harder today evening because through some miracle he was choosing not to question, Ginny has managed to get them the pitch for practice. 

"Harry," Ron was saying. 

"Yeah?" 

"You alright there?" asked Ron taking the elastic off the pack of cards. "I thought you were having another-"

"Vision? No," he said. "What are we supposed to do?" It wasn't a topic he wanted to dwell on. 

Ron eyed him warily. "Well, Trelawney wants us to predict each other's future using these tarot cards."

"What?" he said. "Haven't we been predicting futures since first year?"

Ron shot him a pointed glance.  "Yeah, same thing I was saying before I realised I was talking to myself."

Harry winced. "Sorry, I just spaced out."

Ron waved it away in a strangely chivalrous manner. "What were you thinking about?"

"Quidditch," Harry confessed. 

Ron's expression was one of understanding. "Slytherin have been getting loads of practice under that Stone bloke."

"Same thing I was thinking," Harry said opening the page on the use of tarot cards because Trelawney had looked up from her reading to check that everyone was focusing on their assigned work. 

"Brown, Patil!" she called. "Since you seem so invested in reading each others futures you can be the first to present them to the class five minutes to time." Harry thought he heard Ron sigh in relief. "Followed by Potter and Weasley."

"Ugh. This woman needs to take it down a notch," he grumbled. 

"You did predict her imminent death in fourth year," Harry pointed out. 

"She was getting on my nerves," Ron declared. "I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine."

Harry couldn't say he would blame Ron for that. The Divination professor had a habit of predicting his death any chance she got. Apparently she disliked it when the action was reciprocated. 

"Anyway," Ron said making a show of laying the cards on the table and unrolling a piece of parchment. "I heard Malfoy's been benched."

Harry nodded as Ron passed him the cards. Years of not paying attention during classes had made them experts at pretending to do work. "Yeah, got Stone pissed or something."

"Arrogant prick deserves it if you ask me," Ron said lowering his voice when he spotted Trelawney rising from her seat. 

"I know," Harry said lowering his head so close to the book his nose nearly touched the pages. "But I don't want to have to rely on that to get a win, you know what I mean?"

"To be honest, no." Harry rolled his eyes. Of course Ron wouldn't see it that way. "A win's a win."

"But how will I know if I've gotten any better if I don't pit myself against one of the best flyers in the school?"

Ron's nose wrinkled. "Best? Have you lost it, Harry? Is this some sort of hallucination?"

"Credit where credit is due," Harry mumbled before he could stop himself. 

Ron's eyes widened and he scrambled to cover the silence with words. "Sure, credit for successfully buying his way onto the team. It's pretentious and pathetic as shit," Ron said before hastily conjuring up a cough to mask his words when Trelawney stopped by their desk to take a look at what they were doing. 

"But to actually suggest he's any good?" Ron whispered when she went over to check on Seamus and Dean. "Harry, it's complete rubbish!" Harry knew Ron would never agree with him on the subject. Malfoy may be a vile human being but he was an expert flyer. 

There was no denying that. 

"Whatever, let's get to work on this, we have approximately fifteen minutes," Harry said. "You shuffled them wrong."

Ron shrugged. "Sorry mate."

He didn't sound very sorry. 

Harry sighed as shuffled the cards afresh then dealt Ron three cards then the same for himself. 

"Okay, it says here we're using the Tarot de Marseille," Harry said referring to his textbook. "I'll go first."

He picked the card to his left- on Ron's right- and turned it over. "For the past you've got the fool," he said as Ron began to scribble something down on his parchment. He looked up the entry. "Which translates to madness or bewilderment." He looked up. 

"Well that explains what happened in fourth year." At Harry's look of confusion, he added, "When I thought you'd stuck your name in the Goblet of Fire."

A fool indeed. 

He turned the middle card. 

"The sun," he said, "which stands for prison." He left out the part that said poverty because he didn't think Ron needed to be reminded of that. "I reckon someone's got it in their clutches."

Ron frowned. "That's really creepy, Harry."

Harry laughed and turned the last card. 

"The devil-" Ron gave a sigh of resignation- "which stands for illness."

"That could be any bloody thing," Ron said. "Can't these cards be any more specific?"

"Ron," Harry admonished, "don't disrespect the cards."

Ron snorted. "More like they disrespected me. Sick? Please!"

He turned Harry's first card. "The moon: betrayal or falsehood," he said which Harry thought he could relate to various aspects of his life. "I doubt we could count the number of times that happened."

"Next one," he said eager to be done with it. 

"Alright, alright," Ron said. "Don't rush it, this is a very delicate process by the way."

He picked the card that lay in the centre. 

"Look what we've got here: The Hanged Man," Ron said. "Even the cards are with Trelawney." At Harry's insistence that he go ahead and read it Ron turned his attention to his text book. "Prudence or popularity- what? What's a hanged man got to do with prudence or popularity? I swear, there's something wrong with these cards Harry and it isn't the macabre images."

Harry couldn't resist a grin 

"Ok. Last one," Ron said. "The Popess who represents enlightenment and passion." Ron grinned as Harry wrote that down. "Good times are ahead wouldn't you say?"

Harry punched his arm. 

"I can get some without a pack of cards telling me it's going to happen," Harry said because he could, he just didn't try very hard.

As promised Lavender and Parvati had to read their findings five minutes to the end of the class but no one really paid them any mind and Harry was only glad that the class was over before he and Ron had to read theirs because Trelawney couldn't stop correcting them for making the wrong readings. 

The two boys raced up the steps to the Gryffindor common room to dump their books, change into their flying leathers and collect their brooms before they headed down to the Quidditch pitch. To their surprise the rest of the members of the team had already arrived and were listening to Ginny instruct them on what strategy they would use in the upcoming match. 

"Oh, Harry," she said when she spotted him at the back. "I was just explaining to the team why we should change our formation this season," she said like she needed to explain herself. 

"Carry on," Harry said trying to ignore the feeling, the words 'they started without me' in his head. 

Harry had agreed to co-manage the team with Ginny hadn't he? He had known she was a little headstrong hadn't he? Then why did he feel... irritated all of a sudden? He shook his head to clear the thoughts, thoughts he shouldn't be having. He had been late and Ginny had decided that it was better to begin and... save time. Yeah, that was all. He was still the captain, it didn't mean anything. But even as he mounted his broom and soared through the air, Harry couldn't shake the feeling settling within him.

{HPDM}

"Get up, Draco," someone was saying. 

He felt a heavy weight settle on his legs and a hand tap at his bare back. 

"Draco," the voice said. "Fuck. Get the hell up, Draco."

He didn't need to say it twice. Just the sound of Blaise's voice had Draco's eyelids fluttering open. It didn't change anything, Blaise woke him up nearly every morning but since he and Blaise were currently not speaking, it was a relief to hear his voice. The last thing he had said to him was "Good luck." and he had barely looked at him, as though the sight of Draco pained him too much. 

"What is it this time?" he mumbled resisting the urge to shift his position.  

As much as he was relieved to be on speaking terms once more, all he wanted was to get a little more sleep. He hadn't slept well in ages and he felt like he would pass out of he didn't get enough sleep again. 

His arms reached beneath Draco's. "It's the day of the friendly or did you forget again?"

"Mmmh Blaise," he whined. "Stop that..."

Blaise didn't stop trying to tickle his underarms. 

"Draco, will you get up?" demanded the Italian boy. "I want to eat breakfast already. The match starts in two hours."

Draco snuggled deeper into the mattress. "Malfoys don't... forget..."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Blaise said shifting his position so that he was fully on the bed, his knees on either side of Draco's body. He gripped the blond's arms then turned his body so that he was lying on his back. He prodded his cheek. 

"Malfoy," he said. "Quit whining and get up, dammit."

Draco was so shocked at the ease with which Blaise performed the action, at the glint in his eyes that despite being jolted out of his sleepy haze he didn't hear the footsteps. Or the door swing open. Or anything really. All he could hear was his stupid heart and his shallow breathing. 

One of Blaise's hands was full-on gripping Draco's left arm, caressing, _fucking caressing!_ the scarred skin there. 

"Blaise, I was wondering if I could borrow-" Theo said then stopped at the sight of the dark-skinned boy above Malfoy. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked with a slight smirk. 

"Fuck off, Theo," Blaise said throwing a pillow at him. 

The slytherin ducked and walked off. "Have fun, Zabini," he called on his way down the stairs. 

"Shit," he muttered. 

Draco meanwhile was wriggling underneath him attempting to get Blaise off him and mumbling incoherently about his duvet gone missing. 

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he said prodding his cheek with each syllable, "you will get up this- shit!"

Draco's head turned and there was a flash of white before Blaise withdrew his hand with half a yell. "Did you just bite me?" he demanded nursing his throbbing index finger. "What the hell-?"

"Blaise, you have the dirtiest mouth," Draco ventured his eyes fluttering lazily. 

He wriggled once more and managed to look innocent while doing it. 

Blaise swore again. "First the _silencio_ then this, I swear to you Draco-" he got out his wand and Draco paled. 

"Blaise," the blond began though he couldn't help the shiver of excitement. 

"Oh no," Blaise said. "Not this time. _Auguamenti!"_

"Merlin's fucking sagging tits!" were the words that resounded through the Slytherin dungeons. "I'm going to fucking _kill_ you, Blaise," Draco swore. 

The dark haired boy sped out of the dungeons as fast as he could leaving Draco alone and dripping wet in the common room for all the first years to gawk at. 

"Oh go stuff some toast in your mouths," he said with a huff before climbing up the stairs. 

He couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips, it had taken two weeks but everything was back to normal now and he swore he wouldn't let anything change. 

It was half an hour later that Draco made his way up the stairs to the Great Hall. It was much warmer out of the dungeons but still cold, somehow he was glad he wouldn't be playing today. It wasn't like Slytherin would win the friendly and neither would they win the match, whoever they got to replace him as seeker would not have had months of practice every summer since he was seven. 

"Draco," Pansy said motioning for him though she was sitting at the same place they always did and he was perfectly capable of locating it without assistance. 

"Morning," he said. 

"You look like shite," Blaise commented as Pansy pushed a mug of tea in his direction. 

"Well, I guess it must feel like looking at a mirror then," he said earning a sneer. 

"Boys," Pansy admonished with a suppressed smile. "I heard there was some action today morning..."

Blaise was suddenly interested in his plate of scrambled eggs and Draco stopped eating, a piece of dry toast lodged in his throat. Hadn't he put marmalade on it? He distinctly remembered doing so. 

"Hey Draco," Bulstrode said as she walked past him. 

He managed a pained smile as he forced the toast down. 

"Well?" pressed Pansy. 

Draco raised his fork."Blaise assaulted me." _In my own bed,_ he felt like adding but didn't. 

Had they not been sitting on opposite sides of the table, Draco didn't think Blaise would've been able to resist having a go at him. The blond's forte may have been words but Blaise was just as talented when it came to his fists. 

"I am innocent."

"That is a lie, Blaise," Pansy said. "Even I wouldn't believe that."

"I was trying to wake the bastard up okay?" Blaise said. "He was going to miss Stone's emergency meeting."

"Which he has anyway," Pansy pointed out. 

"Indeed," Draco conceded. 

"That's not the point."

"Really?"

"You seemed to be having fun," Blaise said attempting to turn the tables. 

"I was half asleep," Draco deadpanned. 

"If you want to get technical about it..."

"Alright. Why aren't you at Stone's emergency meeting?" Pansy asked clearly trying to get back into the conversation.

"I'd hate to miss breakfast with you two," he said. "Besides, what would our subjects do if we didn't show up?"

"It would be quite the conundrum," agreed Blaise sipping from a glass of grape juice. 

"Come on, Draco, you know how he'd just love to kick you off the team," Pansy said loading more fruit onto her plate. 

"He would if he hadn't already," the blond said stabbing at a sausage. 

"What?" asked Pansy who had never been good at keeping up on any news concerning sports. 

"He did," Draco affirmed grabbing a bun and slathering it with some butter. 

"You were benched, Draco. There's a difference," Blaise said. 

 "Doesn't feel like it."

Pansy quickly regained her composure. 

 "Why aren't you at the meeting then, Draco?"

He looked up from his bun. "There's no need to rub it-"

 "The Draco I know would never let someone like Stone tell him what to do."

Draco sighed. Pansy, in her eagerness to see him reclaim his spot seemed to have forgotten how Quidditch worked. It didn't matter that his father had equipped the entire team with new brooms, it didn't matter that society considered him higher in rank than Stone, this was Quidditch and such divisions did not exist. To get to the top one had to earn it. 

Draco started. 

Where had these thoughts come from? His first thought was that he was being brain washed (Merlin knows it'd happened to 90% of the school but he hardly paid attention to their opinion, he didn't care what the masses thought. Had these thoughts always been in the back of his head, shoved so far back that he managed to ignore them?

"Slytherin's going to lose to those wankers," Pansy said breaking his reverie. 

"It's just a friendly," Blaise said. 

Draco shrugged in response. 

He wanted Slytherin to lose. He wanted to see the look of disappointment and utter humiliation in Stone's face once Potter caught the snitch. He wanted Stone to see how pointless his practice sessions had been. He wanted him to regret benching Draco so much he would beg him to-

"Draco," Pansy said waving a hand in his face. "Can we talk about the fact that you're benched?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said tearing off a chunk of the brioche and popping it into his mouth. "I'm benched."

 "Alright but what exactly happened?" she asked though the question seemed to read: _Why am I only hearing about this now?_

Draco started to answer but he noticed that Blaise had gone silent. His food lay untouched before him and his gaze was trained ahead, eyes narrowed in irritation. The sudden shift in mood had Draco turning ever so slightly to see what had angered Blaise so suddenly. 

Draco's heart sped up and refused to slow down. He forgot all about Blaise's irritation as cool grey eyes met emerald green ones. He forced himself to dredge up any sliver of hatred, any trace of irritation but even the glare he attempted to rearrange his features into fell flat. He could see it in Potter stupid amused smirk, the way he held his gaze unabashedly, the way he refused to back down. Draco unconsciously licked his lips. Opposite him, Blaise stiffened, fingers clenched around his fork and Pansy frowned. 

He thought he saw Potter flush but before he could be sure his gaze flicked to something behind Draco and hardened. Draco had to resist the urge to pout. Was Potter still upset about the fight they'd had? Draco's nose wrinkled, what right did he have to be upset? He had been the one left standing there, alone. _For the second time... a voice whispered._

_Third time's a charm._

 "Shut the hell up," he hissed. 

Pansy's eyes widened. 

 "Draco?" she in alarm. 

She didn't know. No one except Blaise knew about the voices. And he chose this moment to interrogate him. 

 "Where were you last night?" he asked tearing his gaze away from whatever he had been staring at. 

Draco glared at him and this time there was nothing friendly about it. 

 "Mind your own business."

He knew. He knew bloody well that Draco had trouble falling asleep, he knew about the voices, about the self mutilation and he had the nerve to ask Draco where he had been last night like he fucking owed him an explanation. In front of Pansy whom he had sworn to Draco he would not tell. 

Draco's fingers dug into his palms until he felt the pain in his temples. He couldn't stand the accusing tone in Blaise's voice, he couldn't stand that look either, it was a look he thought he would never have to see again. 

 "You were out last night?" Pansy asked trying to diffuse the tension. She leaned in over her sparsely populated plate and whispered, "Was it Bulstrode?"

It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood and it had failed long before it left Pansy's lips, they all knew it but Draco hardly paid attention to it. He was still staring at Blaise who barely had the decency to look remorseful. He was looking at him like he cared or something and it made Draco want to claw the expression off his damn face. 

 "It _is_ my business, Draco or have you forgotten who it was that-"

 "Shut up!" Draco screamed. _"Shut up."_ He didn't realise he was on his feet until the familiar scene of the Great Hall was gone from view and all he could see was his withered soul. 

{HPDM}

"Harry, stop staring," Hermione said but even she could not tear her gaze away from the Slytherin table where Malfoy had just... Were there any words to describe it really?

Harry had come down early for breakfast and chosen the spot next to Hermione (not so he could glance inconspicuously at the Slytherin table every now and then because that was preposterous) which it turned out Ron- despite ignoring Hermione for three weeks now- was not pleased with. Malfoy had come in late and ever since he had stepped into the room Harry was finding it difficult to do anything without surreptitiously throwing glances in his general direction. It was as though something was tugging at him, forcing him to keep looking there. 

Must be the bond. 

Was this going to become a daily occurrence? Malfoy had said unbounded mates felt the need to... touch each other. Was staring part of that too? Would Harry's head be so full of thoughts of Malfoy that he forgot everything else? It was borderline obsessive and Harry was repulsed at the thought of it. He had friends, he had a life, things he cared about. What sort of twisted magical bind would make him forget about that all for one person? A person who did not even deserve it...

Harry's head was pounding and it wasn't from all his swirling thoughts. He had not slept much the previous night and had woken up to a beast of a migraine. It wasn't the scar that hurt, that had happened enough times for him to know the difference between that and a regular headache. If this monster could even be called that. It hurt most at his temples and he sneaked up a hand to massage them every time Ron and Hermione were not looking. 

"Staring at what?" Ron would have asked annoyed at having his breakfast interrupted but curious all the same. 

But his time, everyone was staring, not just Harry. Professors McGonagall and Sprout looked scandalised. In fact, all the professors save Snape and Dumbledore bore some expression of shock on their faces. Dumbledore's expression was mildly neutral as always and Snape merely looked disgusted as though he'd found a brewed potion to be one shade lighter than was standard. 

Everyone's gaze was trained at the Slytherin table when Malfoy yelled, "Shut up!" He got to his feet shakily. "Shut up," he repeated and there was so much fear in his voice, so much loneliness, so much regret that Harry wanted to reach out, wanted to do something so he wouldn't have to hear so much suffering again. It was the bond, right? But he just sat in stunned silence like the rest of the Great Hall, watching as Malfoy fled the scene. 

At the opposite end of the room, Malfoy's dark haired friend Parkinson looked just as stunned, visibly fighting the urge to follow her friend out of the Hall. His other friend Zabini sat expressionless, staring... right at Harry with what was quickly morphing into a murderous. What the actual hell? As far as Harry could tell, Draco has been yelling at Blaise so he must have done something. Why was he glaring at Harry like he was the cause of all this? And it wasn't the first time, just a few minutes before Malfoy's outburst he had given Harry that same murderous glare like he had something to be upset about. 

Harry resisted the urge to massage his temples, flipped him the bird and forced himself to look away. Screw Malfoy, screw Slytherin, he wasn't going to get involved with any of this. He had a game to worry about. 

Slowly the Great Hall resumed its previous state. It wasn't that they had moved on from Malfoy's er... breakdown (outburst sounded rather childish) but that they were discussing it in harsh whispers. For once, things did not seem so good for the trio. Unlike Harry, Ron and Hermione they tended to keep their private matters public. Their arguments and reconciliations were always so plain to see and Harry supposed the Hogwarts student body liked that kind of drama. They liked seeing someone that they could relate to. 

Harry wasn't sure what to feel about it for a moment but then he remembered that he had sworn mere moments ago that he was done with Malfoy and Slytherins (though he wasn't sure when he had ever 'began' with them in the first place.)

"If you're quite done, I really think we should get going," Hermione said pushing her plate away and for a second Harry thought she was talking to him but she was looking at Ron. "The match starts in two hours doesn't it?"

"Yeah" Ron said pushing away his used utensils as well. "Can't wait to hear that speech, mate."

He still looked unnerved by what had taken place in the Great Hall but by the time they had changed into their flying leathers and were waiting for their names to be called out, it was all but forgotten. 

It wasn't a great speech, not by a long shot but Harry had never been good at giving speeches. The Dursleys had made sure to make him feel from a young age like every word that came out of his mouth was one too many. He just made sure to let the team know that he'd been watching them and that they were in good form (they were) and that Slytherin didn't stand a chance (they'd been trying for five years after all, why not make it six?). 

Overall the team was well pleased with this and eventually the cheering of the crowds got louder and Lee Jordan's voice could be heard introducing the players. It was time to line up.

As the seeker, Harry stood at the very back across from the Slytherin stand-in seeker. He was a tall lanky boy, a fifth year probably for Harry would recognise a fellow sixth year and he was making it a point not to look his direction. Harry didn't know his name and he couldn't see the back of his flying leathers but he seemed a bit stiff, Harry noted, like cardboard.  He was also biting his lip and fidgeting with the edge of his cloak. Was he nervous? Harry could remember being this nervous before his first game five years ago. 

Harry was was about to say as much when he felt a stab of pain in his forehead. He barely had time to contemplate it as Lee's voice faded out and the other players began to mount their brooms. 

The big inning of the match was a bit of a drag as each team struggled to find their footing but after a few minutes the Slytherin Chasers had the Quaffle in their possession and Harry could see from where he was that their defense wouldn't stand a chance. The Slytherins flew in tight formation and every attempt to steal the Quaffle was thwarted almost instantly. He gripped his broom in frustration, it was cold and the pounding in his head had returned but they still had to win. Friendlies usually set the tone for the actual match and a loss to Slytherin would not bode well for the team. 

Harry tore his gaze away from the match to scan the grounds in search of the snitch. The Slytherin keeper was a little ahead of him, to his left and Harry saw the name _Everett_ on the back of his cloak above a large _42._ He was watching the match intently and didn't seem to be keeping an eye out for the snitch. Harry snorted, first timers. 

This train of thought was quickly interrupted when he heard the words, "Another ten points to Gryffindor!" from Lee as the Slytherin keeper let the quaffle through the hoops. "A lesson to you kids, money can't buy talent."

Harry had to restrain himself from searching the stands for Malfoy's form if only to see his reaction to the comment. Although Gryffindor were not in the lead, they were only twenty points behind Slytherin and Harry believed they could win this if the Chasers upped their game or he found the snitch. He gripped his head as another wave of pain struck him and really wished he had visited Madam Pomfey while he still had time. But it was too late now, he needed to focus on winning the game and that meant distracting the other seeker. 

Harry thought of chasing wind just to see if Everett would follow but each time he'd attempted to do so he had been thwarted by a bludger or another score for either team. He was perched lightly on his broom, high above the other players with one eye out for the snitch, the other on the game. 

Another stab of pain hit him and his hand reached for his scar though he knew that was not the source of the pain. He began to feel woozy, his vision became blurry. 

"What's this," said Lee, "it seems Harry Potter has spotted the- no, false alarm, he's falling, fast-"

His words were cut off as Harry's vision went black and he soared to the ground. 

{HPDM}

Draco paced outside the hospital wing his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lower lip chewed until was a deep red colour. He hadn't been in the stands when the incident happened but word spread fast with all the portraits in the castle and as much as he wasn't in the right state of mind in the moment all he could hear in his mind was that his mate needed him. Now.

He could hear Pompfrey bustling around inside and wished terribly that he could be there too, what if it was serious, what if Ha-Potter had suffered major injuries?

Draco began to pace. His left arm hurt where the fabric of his silk shirt rubbed against the fresh cuts he had made only hours ago. At first Draco thought the booze would be enough and had proceeded to down the equivalent of four pints in half an hour. It hadn't been enough so Draco had knocked back three vials of the Pepper-Up potion because he needed to forget. But after an hour it began to wear off, he felt his body coming down from the high and it wasn't pleasant. It hurt everywhere, his arms twitched and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Draco had been at his wits end at this point and so he had done the only thing he knew would help. 

His arm still tingled and he wasn't sure he was completely sober but this wasn't about him. It was about Potter and he wasn't sure what he would do if Pomfrey didn't let him in soon. 

"You can come in now."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief but the feeling was quickly washed away when he saw Potter's head, left arm and right thigh wrapped in bandages. "What-?" he asked resisting the urge to run to the bed. 

"He sustained various heavy injuries but he will recover," she said clearing up her tools. "No more than five minutes."

Draco nodded although he intended to stay longer. It was well past ten o'clock and no one was about so the chances of being interrupted were low. It was also unlikely anyone would see him. He sat at Potter's side, his hands firmly on his laps and inhaled deeply. The scent of sweat, wet grass and sandalwood clung to him, Malfoy couldn't resist taking a whiff. 

"Who's there?" he heard. 

The drugs had began to wear off and Potter was shifting on his side, eyes restless beneath his eyelids. Draco waited until he opened his eyes. They were clouded with sleep at first but recognition quickly began to fill them until his gaze had hardened entirely. 

Draco ignored the pang in his chest. Was there anything that could take this away?

The dark haired boy struggled to sit up but Draco put a hand on his chest- against his better judgement. "You need to rest."

"What are you doing here?"

Years of mockery and ridicule had earned him that tone but Draco still flinched. 

"What d'you think?" Draco said and hated how his words slurred together. 

Harry eyed him suspiciously but before he could say anything Draco went on. 

"You're forgetting I'm your mate." The answering silence was enough to make him continue. "I can't exactly control the urge to..."

 "The urge to what?" demanded Potter mercilessly. 

 "Fuck," Malfoy swore tipping forward a little as his vision swam. 

Merlin, he needed to touch. _Feel._

 "You're high aren't you?" Harry said accusingly. 

Draco raised his eyes to meet Potter's. 

 "So what?" spat Malfoy. 

It wouldn't be the first time Saint Potter had seen him this way. 

 "Shit. Are you out of your mind? Pomfrey is in the other room, she's a medi-witch, you're not gonna fool her."

Draco was still leaning forward and he was surprised to see the hand he'd placed on Potter's chest earlier had slid down to his forearm. He looked away quickly before Potter noticed and shoved him away. 

 "Who says I'm trying to fool her?"

_You're the only one I need to fool. Fool around with._

 "The fuck?!"

He seemed to have said that aloud. Harry leaned away from him shoving his hand away in the process. 

 "God, Malfoy. What's gotten into you?"

_A shitload of alcohol. Illegal potions. But it's still not enough..._

 "Potter," he said and he hoped his voice only sounded needy in his head. "I- you need to... Merlin. Fuck..."

 "No swearing in my... Merlin," Madam Pomfrey said when she had returned to the room. 

Draco's body felt too hot, it felt like there were millions of insects crawling all over his skin. He could feel sweat dripping down his back and that rasping sound seemed to be coming from him. 

 "Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey rushed to him. 

She turned to Harry. 

 "What did he take?"

 "I uh... I don't know. He wouldn't say," Harry replied frantically. "What's going on?"

But Madam Pomfrey did not reply, she took one look at his eyes and barked, "Move."

Harry was so confused he started to get about of bed but Madam Pomfrey signaled for him to remain put as she hauled Malfoy onto the bed. Harry could only watch in shock as she tossed the covers to his side of the bed and summoned a bowl of water and a cloth. 

 "I'll just get another-"

 "Stay where you are," she said in the same stern tone. 

Harry stayed put and watched as Madam Pomfrey began to wipe his forehead. 

 "Take his hand."

 "What?"

She looked up at him. "Do it, Harry."

Harry did not want to take Malfoy's hand. Had rule #1 not been 'no touching unless expressly allowed'? Also, he did not understand why he had to take Malfoy's hand if he was suffering the symptoms of an overdose? How would that help? But there was an urgency in Madam Pomfrey's eyes and Harry knew she would not ask unless it was necessary. 

Merlin, it was the weirdest thing on earth but Harry reached for Malfoy's left hand which lay palm up as if waiting to be grasped. As soon as his hand slid into Malfoy's, the blond's clammy fingers tightened against his. 

 "Shit. He's awake."

Madam Pomfrey did not notice his cussing and if she did, she chose to ignore it. "Of course he is."

She began to unbutton Malfoy's shirt. "Use your other hand to wipe his forehead, Harry. He needs to feel you."

Harry's eyes widened. 

What the bloody hell was she saying? Why would Malfoy need to feel him? What was really going on here? Madam Pomfrey had that same urgent look in her eyes and Harry vowed to asks questions later. God knows he would need an explanation for all these requests. 

He dipped the fingers of his left hand into the bowl and hissed at the cold liquid. He had to turn his body at an awkward angle to both keep his hand in Malfoy's and swab his forehead with the cold liquid but after a while the shivering went down and Madam Pomfrey said he could stop. The grip on his hand had not slackened but Malfoy lay deathly still on the bed. The only sign that he still possessed life was his heavy breathing. 

 "What-?" he started but Madam Pomfrey shook her head. 

 "Tomorrow," was all she said. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of run away with me. 
> 
> TTM lovelies!
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_I never knew that I could feel this way_  
_I'm right for you_  
_This kinda love don't happen everyday_  
_Be friendly but cautious, you're gonna have to count your losses  
_ _Easily attracted, but dangerous to get distracted._

**Fight for you  
Morgan Page**

**Word count: 7652**

Harry woke up some time in the early hours of the morning. He looked around the room eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness of the Hospital Wing as he attempted to determine what had woken him from his sleep. At first he thought it was a nightmare but he couldn't feel it. He was not sweating, his heart was not pounding... He was about to lay back down when he felt movement beside him. 

Harry blinked at the sleeping form beside him in surprise. He had almost forgotten that someone else was in the bed. It was a tight squeeze as the beds in the Hospital Wing were strictly meant for one person but somehow it had slipped his mind that he wasn't alone. 

As his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight which was streaming in from the cracks in the shutters, they focused on Malfoy's sleeping form. His blond hair was spread out on the pillow and his skin looked even paler in the moonlight. He was facing Harry, his legs bent and his arms spread out on the small bed taking up half of Harry's space. He looked so ethereal that Harry nearly forgot how to breathe. This was not the Malfoy who he had met in Hogsmeade, the same Malfoy he had met in the corridors the second week of September. Neither was it the Malfoy from the lake, this was another Malfoy, sleeping Malfoy who looked so angelic Harry thought he was in the wrong place. 

Merlin, that sounded cheesy but how else could he put it? Words had escaped him at the mere sight and all he could do was stare and stare. 

Tentatively, Harry reached out and caressed Malfoy's upturned arm. He quickly pulled his arm back afraid that Malfoy would wake up but all he got was a breathy sigh. He reached out again, this time stroking Malfoy's left palm all the way up to the base of his wrist. Malfoy's eyes fluttered, he shifted slightly but did not wake up. A certain thrill filled Harry, like the morning sun which slowly became brighter until it reached its zenith. He didn't know why he was doing this but something inside him was telling him to keep going. To do more. 

Harry was about to reach out for a third time when Malfoy beat him to it. His hand fumbled around the bedsheets seeking Harry's until it closed on his left wrist. Malfoy's thumb immediately began to trace circles on the soft sensitive skin of his inner wrist and Harry had to hold back a moan. Why did it feel so good?

 "What was that about not feeling me up?" he asked the silence breathily. 

A soft chuckle. 

Harry's heart stopped. It stopped for all of two seconds and all he could think was _shit. He heard. He fucking heard._

He opened his mouth to say something but he had no words so he tried to work up the courage to yank his arm from Draco's grasp but all that resulted in was a soft sigh when the Slytherin's nails grazed his skin. Fuck, what was he, a teenage boy? Actually yeah... But it didn't mean it wasn't embarrassing as hell when Draco's fingers travelled further up his arm at that sound. 

Harry was thankful for the darkness and whatever demon had possessed Draco and convinced him to keep his eyes shut because his face was on fire. 

 Malfoy's hand closed around the crook of his elbow and just... held onto it. Harry frowned at this. What was he playing at? He tried to pull his arm back but the action only caused Malfoy's grip to tighten. 

 "No one has that strong a grip in their sleep," he said a little annoyed. 

 "Who's asleep?" murmured Malfoy. _"You're_ not and I sure as hell aren't either."

 "Then let go."

Silence. 

 "I'm trying," he thought he heard the blond say but he couldn't be sure. 

More silence. 

Then: "You started it. I'm just... fueling the fire." And maybe if Harry hadn't been looking away he would have seen the smirk on Malfoy's face. 

 "Well, I'm about to put out the bloody fire," Harry said attempting to extricate his arm once more. 

Malfoy chuckled but let go. 

Harry was grateful for the fact that he could massage his arm for all of ten seconds because he would otherwise be faced with the interminable silence that came with this Malfoy. It gave him something to do but he had already been doing it too long and Malfoy was looking at him... Harry couldn't really see his expression in the darkness and he hoped the same went for Malfoy. Once he began to push the limit for the longest arm massage in history, Harry cast around for something to say. Something to drag away the tension between them. 

"What happened yesterday?" he asked leaving no room for misunderstanding. 

 "I had a cup of tea and did some adventuring, did you know Hogwarts has a basement?"

It did?

Harry shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about."

 "Then for Merlin's sake, Potter, be clear," he said and although Malfoy had not moved an inch it suddenly felt like he was miles away from Harry in that moment. 

Which was odd because there had ever been any closeness to begin with. 

 "You came in here..." Harry started but his hand reached to his hair as he tried to find a way to string the words together, "Drunk."

Malfoy looked up. 

 "So?"

Harry frowned. "You shouldn't-"

 "We've had this conversation before, Potter. I do what I like and you mind your own business."

 Harry had no argument to counter that because it was the essence of his relationship with Malfoy. He wasn't supposed to care, he wasn't supposed to wonder... He didn't. He didn't, it was just-

 "Why?" he asked instead. 

 "Why what?" spat Malfoy. 

_Why do you do this to yourself?_

 "Why did you come here?"

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the shutters. "I had some urgent matters to discuss with Madam Pomfrey."

 "Bullshit."

 "Believe what you will."

 "Do you mean to say you don't remember?" asked Harry partly in shock and partly dubious. 

Malfoy glared at him and even in the darkness Harry could feel the heat of his gaze, it burned on his skin and threatened to dissolve his patience to dust. 

 "You know, Potter," he said throwing the sheets aside. "I don't know why the fuck I'm in the same bed as you but I'm leaving right now, before my body has a violent reaction towards you and your stupidity."

Harry laughed coldly, patience forgotten. 

 "You wanna know why you're in the same bed as me, Malfoy? Because you _needed_ it. You needed it so bad you nearly passed out and I might just be the one thing that saved your worthless life."

Malfoy visibly stiffened, his legs were still thrown over the side of the bed but his posture was ramrod straight and his fists were clenched around the sheets. A line had been crossed but Harry could not tell what it was and he was far too angry with Malfoy to stop. He had endured years of humiliation and insults, so many times he had wanted to hurt Malfoy back, to make him feel what it felt like...

 "You came in here high as a kite pretending you cared and you had the nerve to-"

 "Potter," Malfoy said silently. He stood and turned to Harry, his lithe form bathed entirely in moonlight. His voice was soft but there was an edge to it, cold and biting as steel, when he said, "Shut up, before I kill you."

And he meant it. 

{HPDM}

 _Fuck Potter,_ he thought as he wondered around the Hospital Wing looking for an empty bed. 

_Fuck Potter and his perfect life, his stupid ideals and the bullshit he said._

_Fuck it all._

_Fuck this shit._

 "Hey, could you maybe keep it down?" he heard someone say. 

Draco could only blink when he saw a head peeking out from behind one of the curtains. Its owner had small, cat-like eyes, his hair had the faintest hints of cherry and he seemed to be even paler than Draco. He was staring at Draco with a raised eyebrow as if waiting for an answer. Draco was hardly surprised that he had spoken aloud, it was something that seemed to happen often, especially when he was on edge... on the edge.

 "Hey," the boy said snapping his fingers in Draco's face rather rudely. "Did you-"

 "Yes, I heard you," Draco snapped. 

The boy didn't react to his harsh tone which made Draco want to break something.

 "Well?" he went on clearly oblivious to Draco's mood. 

 "Well what?"

The boy sighed in frustration. "Are you gonna be quiet or not?" He had a faint accent, something Draco couldn't place but it clearly labeled him as a foreigner. Or at least, someone of foreign descent. 

 "Would you like it if I was quiet?" asked Draco sweetly. 

At this the boy finally did look taken aback. "Er... yes?"

Draco smiled. 

 "Well then, I'll scream till my lungs get sore."

The cherry haired boy threw his head back and laughed. "You've got issues."

 "Don't we all?"

{HPDM}

Harry woke for a second time that morning. This time it was to weak sunlight and an empty bed. He stretched his limbs and smiled faintly when he heard something pop. He was tired of being in bed although it had only been one night. It felt like he'd been trapped in the Hospital Wing all weekend. The Quidditch match seemed like a distant memory now. He was sure it would not remain so but he was content to just lay there for now and pretend that it was. Pretend that everything that happened in the last few hours was some kind of dream. Or nightmare. 

There was some commotion at the door and Harry looked up with a yawn. From the clock on the wall, he could see it was half past eight. He wondered who would be awake at this time and why their first thought would be to come to the Hospital Wing. Then it occurred to him...

"Harry," he heard a high-pitched voice say long before Hermione's bushy head came into view. 

Ron followed soon after looking a little exhausted but happy to see Harry all the same. The two of them were bundled up in warm winter clothing complete with gloves and beanies and it made Harry shiver despite not being particularly cold under the heavy duvet. Hermione latched onto the action when the silence became too drawn out. 

 "Are you cold?" she asked already getting up from her seat beside the bed. 

Harry shook his head. "No. I just... I'm fine."

Ron looked at him warily from where he was standing beside Hermione. Harry could tell there was something he wanted to ask but he was holding back and he would be damned if he let his friend bring up Quidditch right now. 

Hermione sank back into her chair with a nod. "Alright. How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. 

 "Alright I guess."

She didn't appear to believe him. 

Harry wanted to focus, he wanted to be in the present moment, he wanted to be easy with his friends who had woken up early on a Sunday just to see him but he couldn't stop his mind from going back to the conversation he'd had with Malfoy merely five hours ago. The words he'd said... he'd been angry and he knew that made it worse but maybe he shouldn't have- no, not maybe, he definitely shouldn't have said those things. He'd just been so fed up with how angry and conflicted Malfoy made him feel. He'd wanted to win just once and yet it felt like he had lost something instead. 

 "Harry."

Harry looked away from the window. 

 "Yeah?"

 "Did you hear what I said?"

 "Uh..."

 "Look, if you're not feeling it right now we can come back later-"  "No," he said because he didn't want them to go, he needed the company or he would sink into his thoughts like they were devil snare. "I'm fine."

Ron seemed to regard this with an ounce of disbelief because he just so happened to know Harry, quite well at that. Nevertheless, the topic itself seemed to get to him and it wasn't long before he could resist saying. "Okay. What happened out there though? You haven't fallen off your broom since third year."

 "Ron," Hermione said with a frown. 

Ron shrugged. "He said he was fine."

 "Yeah but that doesn't mean you should approach the topic like that," she said. 

 "What's the point of beating around the bush?"

_You would know, you do it often enough._

At this point Harry could only sigh because it was clear he needed a break but he didn't want one. 

Hermione tugged on her yellow scarf so that it sat a little lower around her neck. 

 "Ignore him, Harry," she said at the same time as he said, "Fatigue."

"What?" Hermione and Ron both said. 

Unlike himself and Hermione, the two of them looked at each other awkwardly when they realised they had spoken at the same time but Harry was not in the mood for it this morning so he forced himself to continue. 

"I didn't get much sleep the night before and I was sort of tired from all the work... " Merlin, it was such a lame excuse and he could tell Ron  and Hermione saw past the words. 

 "Another one?" she whispered. 

He shook his head because he knew she was referring to the visions he had been getting since before this year. There was a big difference between visions and nightmares. "No."

 "Then what-?"

Harry sank back into the pillows and shut his eyes. He was tired, so tired but he didn't know how to tell his friends that he wasn't ready to have this conversation yet without seeming like he was keeping secrets. Which he was but that wasn't the point. 

Hermione as perceptive as ever, seemed to read his mood well enough. "Get some rest, Harry. We'll see you later." When you're ready. 

 "What?" Ron exclaimed looking between them. "But Harry hasn't told us what-"

 "We're leaving, Ron." No room for argument. 

Hermione had just started to stand up when Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room, a large tray filled with no less than twenty potions in her hands. 

 "Out!" she called walking towards them. Her voice was too loud and the scent of disinfectant clung to much to the air around her. Harry rubbed his temples. "Out, out, out with you!"

Hermione placed a hand over her heart and took a deep breath for at the moment Madam Pompfrey had entered the room yelling she had jumped from the stool and let out a squeak of fear. 

 "Oh, it's just you," she said with a sigh of relief. 

 "It should be just me in here," she scolded. "You should not be here, my patients need their rest."

 "Oh c'mon," Ron said. "We weren't even that loud."

 "Oh you were loud alright," someone said though Harry could not see who as the person was hidden behind the bed hangings. Despite coming from further inside the Hospital Wing, the voice was audible. 

 "That's enough," Madam Pomfrey said. "Be gone or I shall not allow any more late night visits."

Hermione looked like she wanted to question that statement, maybe turn it over and dissect it but she merely nodded once and left the room, Ron not far behind her. 

 "I knew I shouldn't have allowed Malfoy in," she muttered as she pulled the curtains around Harry's bed and then shuffled away to begin administering potions. 

 _Right you are,_ thought Harry as he threw an arm over his eyes and released a puff of air.

{HPDM}

Contrary to his expectations, Draco Malfoy was feeling any better. He'd overheard the entire conversation between the Golden Trio because yes, they had been that loud and of course (Cherry) Blossom had felt the need to point it out to them. Draco had wandered the entire Hospital Wing and had failed to find another empty bed so he'd been forced to sleep in the bed adjacent to his. 

It hadn't been that bad, really. Cherry or Blossom (Draco was still trying to figure out which one would sound more patronising) had been mostly silent except for that one time he has whimpered continuously for five minutes but they wasn't the point. 

The point was that Potter was uncomfortable. With his own friends. There was trouble in their little Golden paradise which should have pleased Draco because Harry deserved it and so much worse but there was nothing. He got no pleasure from it and it sickened him. Was he changing? Why was he changing? And why hadn't Pansy and Blaise come to see him too? Oh yeah, he and Blaise were back to not speaking and Pansy probably wanted to stay on the fence. 

He had no one to take his side. 

_Fucking hell._

 "You swear a lot for a high-born wizard," came the voice. 

 "Do you make a point of minding everyone's business but your own?" he retorted. 

He chuckled. "Yeah, sometimes."

 "Well then fucking get a life."

More chuckling. "You're so ruthless, Draco."

 "That's Malfoy to you."

 "Nope. I like Draco just fine."

 _Yeah, Draco doesn't like you one bit,_ he wanted to say but that would only encourage Cherry Blossom to speak and their conversation should have ended before it ever began. 

Unfortunately, his silence seemed to have the opposite effect because the hangings on the bed opposite his were suddenly drawn back and he was met with a very pointed stare. There were dark circles underneath his eyes which were red and puffy. He rubbed at them. 

 "You went silent on me."

Malfoy looked away. He didn't want to know and he didn't think he had any room for such things in him. Not at the moment, maybe not ever. 

 "I'm not obligated to speak to you, Blossom," he said picking at a loose thread on the duvet. 

The boy laughed lightly. Carefully. "Blossom?"

Malfoy's gaze snapped to the ceiling. Had he let that out too? He needed some sort of filter or something. 

 "Your hair."

 "Oh," he said reaching up to finger his hair and Malfoy was _not_ looking, he could see it from the corner of his eye. That was all. "You like it?" It was tentative. Hopeful. 

 "I think it's fucking disgusting."

He laughed. "You're so funny, Draco."

God, could this kid take all the rejection in the world?

 "How old are you anyway?" Draco asked gruffly. 

He could see him smile. "You're wondering why you haven't seen me around, huh?"

 "No, I'm wondering who the hell you think you are to speak to me like this."

 "I don't think so," he sang in a high-pitched voice. 

 "Fine. Whatever. I could care less."

 "I'm fifteen in December."

So was he in fourth or fifth year? Draco was still as confused as when the conversation had began and he could tell that Blossom knew because he was smiling that smile of his. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey was in his line of sight before he could say anything more. 

 "How are we feeling today?" she asked casting a charm to check Blossom's vitals. 

 "Okay." He rubbed at his eyes some more. "I made a friend."

Madam Pomfrey made a show of looking around. "Really who?"

Draco rolled his eyes. 

 "Draco," he said pointing at him as though saying his name wasn't enough. 

Madam Pomfrey eyed him. 

Draco didn't bother explaining himself to her. But he wasn't going to let this kid have delusions. 

 "I'm not your friend."

Blossom pouted as Pomfrey fed him his potions causing some of the dark liquid to dribble down his chin. Draco snorted. What a child. 

 "Be nice, Draco."

 "It's Malfoy and I don't have to be nice to anyone."

Madam Pomfrey shot him an unforgiving look. "You will watch your tone young man or I will see to it that you are properly straightened out. And if I hear anymore vulgar language I will ensure you freeze to death next time you end up here, am I clear?"

She picked two vials off the tray and pushed them into his hands. 

 "Drink."

He drank. And he honestly wondered if freezing to death was such a bad idea. 

{HPDM}

It was some time later that afternoon that Draco was released from the Hospital Wing. Blossom had tried to engage him in conversation the entire time and only stopped when Draco had drawn the bed hangings, cast a silencing charm and turned on his side. It wasn't that Draco had anything better to do than drown in his thoughts but he wasn't going to let him know. 

Madam Pomfrey had shoved a few more vials in his hands before he left and he was sure she had never been so happy to see a patient leave her care. 

Draco made his way up the stairs. Going to the dungeons was out of the question, he knew either Blaise or Pansy would be there and he didn't much feel like speaking to either or both of them. Not after what had happened yesterday morning. They were the ones he dreaded meeting the most. He knew what the other students would think, he knew what they would say behind his back but he would have to explain himself to his friends and somehow that was worse than letting the rumours spread. 

He had wasted an entire day and a half anyway and he had a job to do. His parents' life, his life, depended in this. He may as well use the few hours left before supper well because Draco was hungry and tired and he just wanted to eat and sleep. 

_And maybe never wake up?_

_Yeah._

_That would be good._

_I know._

Before long, he was on the seventh floor. The corridor was empty as usual and with a sigh he tucked the problem away for later. He paced three times directing his thoughts to somewhere he could find something hidden. It would be nice if he could find the twin cupboard immediately but considering how old Hogwarts was, he was certain he was not the first curious student to come around. 

Just like the last time a pair of shiny double doors appeared before him. Instinctively, he checked to see if anyone was following him and when he was satisfied to see that no one was watching him, he stepped in the room pausing only to shut the doors behind him. 

The first thing he noticed was that he had proven one of his theories right. Thinking of something different had brought him a room that looked nothing like Manor's palour. In fact, his mother would have brought hell upon the house elves if she ever saw such a state of disorder. There were dozens piles in the room, each of them grazed against the high ceiling which was dusty and covered in numerous cobwebs. 

Draco couldn't help his amazement. For such a large number of things to have been left here there must have been hundreds of students who had visited the place in the past and at least a handful of professors. Maybe even Filch. 

He took a cautious step forward partially afraid everything would disappear if he so much as breathed too loud. A few steps forward and he spotted something glinting at the bottom of the pile to his left. Unable to resist the allure of jewellery, he knelt down and grasped a thin chain in his hands. 

He wasn't sure if pulling it out would cause the entire pile to tumble but he supposed doing it quickly was his only hope. So he took a deep breath, counted to three then pulled the chain as he fast as he could scrambling away from the pile in case it all came crashing down. 

It didn't. A few books at the top trembled releasing healthy puffs of dust before everything was silent once more. 

Draco looked down at the object of his labour and found it to be a pendant with a pink gem in a titanium setting. He wiped off the dust clouding it with his shirt before examining it again. It looked familiar, very familiar and had it not been so obviously feminine he would have kept it for himself but as it was he would have to ask Pansy about it, he remembered her moaning about some lost necklace or the other. 

Where am I going to find the damn cabinet? he wondered as he pocketed the pendant and continued through the room. At some point the dust became too heavy in the air and he had to hold his arm to his nose to prevent himself from inhaling the dust particles. The vastness of the room made him wish he had someone to help him cut down the search time or a spell to do it for him. 

"The Essence of Mugwort and it's Various Uses," he read tracing his fingers across the spine of the a dusty old tome. "Hmm..." It could be useful though he had never much cared for the process of exctracting Mugwort, it took days. The book was also obviously dated and Draco prided himself in employing the revolutionary new techniques in his brewing. 

Still, he would come back for it, maybe it would have something useful. It would be a shame to leave such a useful guide behind lest it fell into more... unworthy hands. 

_Please, you're the only unworthy one here._

Draco clenched his fists but allowed himself to relax a second later. 

As he got deeper into the room he had to squeeze himself in between the piles, he could see he was approaching a dark wall but it was still a fair distance away. He got out his wand feeling the hairs on his neck rise all of a sudden. He stopped to listen but was confronted with nothing but the sound of his heart slamming against his ribcage. He was in a large dark dusty room, it made sense. 

As he approached the back (or what he thought was the back) of the room, he saw a large blue chest. Draco felt a wave of relief flood his veins as he took in the sight of what could only be the twin Vanishing Cabinet. He'd been instructed to search for a specific inscription on the left side of the cabinet. He got to his knees and fingered the aged wood until his fingers glided over shallow grooves on the right side of the cabinet. Craning his neck to look, he took in the sight. 

_Tóta glória major_

How fitting he thought as he grasped the handle, turned it and pushed the door aside. A heavy cloud of dust that elicited a coughing fit from him swirled around Draco for a long moment and left his eyes tearing. It was a good long minute before he could look up to inspect the cabinet. 

It was not very large but appeared to be empty. Draco cast around for something to test the cabinet's capabilities with and came across an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, a volume published in the late seventies. Sighing, he picked up the dusty book and tossed it into the cabinet which he closed immediately after and spoke the words: 

_"Ad tua frátum rés intrá mitta."_

He waited exactly five seconds before saying:

_"É tua frátó rés intrá porta."_

Another five seconds. 

He grasped the handle and pulled open the cabinet. His face fell. Nothing. It hadn't worked. Draco run a hand through his hair in frustration, what was he to do now? He couldn't very well owl father and tell him it didn't work. If there was one thing Death Eaters knew not to do it was tell the Dark Lord of their failure because he tended to shoot the messenger. Draco kicked at the cabinet and sighed. 

He would have to try again. And again until it worked. 

He looked at the cabinet one last time before retracing his footsteps and leaving the Room of Requirement. He was surprised to find that it was dark out, he hadn't noticed how fast time had flown by. As he descended the stairs he debated about whether or not to stop by the Great Hall. 

Pansy would kill him if he didn't but the girl was too inquisitive for her own sake and Draco was not in the mood for questions. The Slytherin common room was out as well because if Blaise was not in the great hall then he would be there. Even if he wasn't, he didn't want to be around the other Slytherins at the moment. Their undivided attention was flattering and all (he'd always been one to preen at that sort of thing) but he wasn't... feeling it today. Not to mention the incident he had in the Great Hall yesterday.  

In the end Draco decided he would make a quick trip to Myrtle's bathroom on his way to the Astronomy Tower- drink free this time. He needed time to think, it was time he faced his thoughts, some of them. Maybe it was time he did something about them other than attempt to drown them in alcohol and (no doubt) illegal potions. He couldn't guarantee he wouldn't turn to that but... He tugged at a stray lock of hair as he navigated the empty corridors, he needed something. 

It wasn't very often these moments came to him but sometimes they came hard and fast. He would awake from a fitful sleep with a deep pit at the bottom of his stomach, with a feeling that he was not complete, that a part of him was not there. It had nothing to do with fear or his past (rather hedonistic- though in part it still was) life. He knew it sounded like rubbish which was why he'd never told anyone but the feeling was persistent regardless. He drank, he flew, he read, he ate yet nothing seemed to be able to satisfy that deep-seated hunger within him. 

It was like a monster trapped in a pit, desperately trying to claw its way out. 

With a jolt, Draco realised he had arrived at the doors to Myrtle's bathroom. He pushed them open, searched for signs of any other presence besides his then made his way into the room. He could already smell the Pepper-up potion from where he stood, a masking charm would be good just in case anyone happened to find their way to the sixth floor. 

"Draco darling?" he heard a shrill voice call. He shivered at the word 'darling' and tried to be as silent as possible as he made his way to the last stall. "Is that you?"

Nearly there...

"Draco," she said coming into view. 

The Slytherin forced a smile whilst he tried not to look like he was seeing right through her- she would throw a tantrum to rival one of his. 

"Good evening, Myrtle."

She clasped her hands together and looked at the ground her eyelids flattering rapidly. 

_Wow, she's blushing._

Draco wanted to roll his eyes. 

"You're always so formal," she said. 

 "I don't do chummy."

"You seemed very talkative the other night," she hummed. 

Draco was struggling to remember which night she was talking about when it all came back to him. The night his parents had learned he was a werewolf, the night he'd sought solace within these very walls and sung songs (muggle ones at that) loud enough to wake the entire castle. That night. Had he said anything to her? What if he'd revealed the Dark Lord's plan? No, he'd built up a tolerance, even inebriated he wouldn't risk spilling such dangerous secrets to a ghost that couldn't keep its mouth shut. 

He may occasionally let things slip but such thoughts were rarely what was in his head when he was on edge. And if he had said anything incriminating, someone would have come for him now. Dumbledore wouldn't allow a threat to his life to wander the halls of Hogwarts unchecked. Actually if he knew how far gone Draco was he wouldn't hesitate to commit him to St. Mungo's. 

"I was singing," he said before muttering the incantation to unlock the door, a basic alohomora wouldn't do it. It wasn't something one would find in any book in the Hogwarts Library either. "You walked away from me."

He could hear her pout. 

"Only because I couldn't bear to see you that way," she said sounding closer to him than before. 

He leaned over the large cauldron, peering into its depths. "Consistent purple colour, medium viscosity, hmmm... I wonder if..."

"Draco?"

Draco dipped his wand into the cauldron and lifted it to his nose to get a whiff. 

"Hmm?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Mmm... I can smell the Mugwort though it shouldn't be this strong so soon..."

Draco was vaguely aware of Myrtle crossing her arms with a huff before disappearing to wherever she went when she wasn't bothering him. He decided he would check on it tomorrow, maybe add a dash of the remainder of the asphodel plant just to spice things up a little... that sounded good. Satisfied, he straightened up, wiped his wand on a square of tissue paper and left, headed in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. 

{HPDM}

Absent. 

From the looks of it his friends-especially Parkinson whose dark hair was strewn over her shoulders, her expression indicating she was out for blood- were not pleased at the fact. Harry idly wondered where Malfoy was before he could stop himself. The incident yesterday morning had torn a rift between him and his friends but Harry was itching to know the rest of Slytherin's reaction to it. With him, one wrong move set the whole world against him. If Draco came from this unscathed Harry would be in awe. 

He returned to his supper.

After a moment of silent eating, he looked up again. He was not used to having silent meals, usually Hermione would say something admonishing to Ron or perhaps they would talk about Quidditch (excepting Hermione of course) but now that the two weren't talking, he felt the need to fill the silence. After all, he'd had plenty of that in the Hospital Wing. 

If you asked him he was lucky Pompfrey had even allowed him to leave the place, with the number of spells she'd been scanning him with and tonics she'd forced onto him, it'd started to look like she wanted to keep him just a little longer. But Harry had protested, he hadn't wanted to miss Monday's classes and he only had a sprained wrist which was mostly healed thanks to Madam Pomfrey's fussing. So it was with much reluctance and a promise to return should anything out of the ordinary happen that Harry was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing on a breezy Sunday Evening. 

He sighed. 

"You can have my notes," Hermione said over her book as though she could read Harry's mind. 

Ron grumbled something. 

"Thanks?" Harry said unsure of the reason for the offer. 

"If you're going to say something, Ronald, say it out loud, " Hermione said pouring herself a glass of water. 

Ron looked stoically at his roast potatoes. "He didn't even bloody miss any classes," he grumbled.  

Although Harry was always grateful for any help Hermione could offer (as it usually tended to be very helpful) he had been thinking along the same lines. 

"Yes, but you seem to have forgotten that Harry sprained his wrist."

"It's perfectly fine now," Ron said looking to Harry for his assent. Harry merely held his hands in the air showing he didn't want to get involved. "He wouldn't have been released if-"

Hermione laughed a little bitterly. 

"Oh Ron, you don't know anything," she said scathingly. "You think magic can fix everything instantly, don't you?"

Ron paled at her tone and Harry's eyes widened as well. He'd never heard Hermione speak this way to them. The issue must have been bigger than he thought. 

"Look guys," Harry said. 

"Of course you have to take every bloody moment to lord it over us how intelligent you are," said Ron now brandishing his fork in the air. "I grew up with magic remember?"

"Ron," Harry said knowing that was out of line.  

"Really, is it my fault I'd rather read in the library as opposed to spending hours flying on a broom?"

"Hermione," Harry said sensing this was getting out of hand and that neither of them could really hear him. 

He looked around and could see that several people had began to look up from their food to see what was going on at the Gryffindor table. 

"You spoil everything, Ron," she said looking like she was close to tears as she rose from the table and fled from the Great Hall. 

"Girls," Ron said with a scowl. 

Harry sighed. 

"I better check on her," he said. 

Ron narrowed his eyes at him and because he didn't want him thinking he was picking sides he said, "Remember what happened in first year?"

Ron grudgingly acquiesced and Harry followed her out of the Great Hall. He was not, unfortunately fast enough and ended up staring at an empty corridor. He knew she would have gone to girls' washroom and decided maybe he should just give her a moment to cool off, she would come out when she was ready. Now that he had left his supper unfinished, Harry wasn't sure what to do. Going back to Gryffindor Tower didn't appeal to him, it was still early and he was still feeling a little sour at losing the snitch to Everett. 

There hadn't really be an opportunity for the Gryffindors to comment on the matter and he wasn't going to give it to them. 

He made up his mind and ascended the stairs, strolling down corridors with his hands in his pockets. He didn't want to get caught in the fight between Ron and Hermione, and he didn't want to have to choose sides but he just didn't get it. So Hermione had kissed Victor Krum, that was a whole two years ago, why was it bothering Ron now? He hadn't even admitted he was interested in her then. 

Or now either. 

Harry came to an abrupt stop when he realised he gone all the way to the topmost floor of the castle. 

A cool breeze hit him and with it came a weary sigh. "Every fucking place in this school..."

Harry stepped forward to see who was talking even though he didn't need to because he would know that voice everywhere. 

"You're the one with the heightened senses if I'm not wrong."

Malfoy didn't react but his voice rivaled the breeze when he said, "So?"

Harry licked his lips and moved to the ledge beside Malfoy who still did not deign to grace him with his attention. His hand lay casually over the pocket of his school robes where Harry presumed his wand was hidden. Harry chose to ignore this and instead closed his eyes letting the cold wind bite and snap at his face. It felt quite liberating, it made him want to stretch out his hands, open his mouth, say something to the world. 

"I love this place," he whispered to himself. 

He didn't know what made him say it but he felt content to be there at this moment. 

Malfoy scoffed but said nothing. 

Harry opened his eyes then, already missing the liberating feeling that had been coursing through him. The words he said still hung between them. He didn't know why they had drawn such a reaction from Malfoy. Was it because they were... mates now? Because something had changed?

Harry didn't know and he was so tired of not knowing. He just wanted everything to go back to normal. 

 "I... I apologise." His voice was shaky when he said it but he forced himself to wait for Malfoy's reaction. 

When no reaction was forthcoming, he went on. 

"Look, what I said in the Hospital Wing," he said wanting to get the matter off his chest, he wanted the chance to explain his actions. "I don't know what came over me-"

"Don't, Potter," Malfoy said his hand clenching the stone more firmly. "Don't go there."

Harry was mildly surprised. This was not the Malfoy that had thrown insult after insult at him and it wasn't the Hogsmeade or Hospital Wing Malfoy either and Harry was floundering. He couldn't keep up with all these sides of Malfoy and he didn't know how to respond. What to say. 

 "No," he continued firmly. "I... this ha to be said. It was wrong of me to say what I said-"

 "Does it matter?" asked Malfoy still staring at the horizon. "I've done it to you before. So many times."

 "Yeah but I'm not like that."

Malfoy finally tore his gaze away from the view before them. 

 "Don't fool yourself, Potter," he said and his eyes were colder than the breeze, than his voice. Harry found himself holding his breath, preparing for the blow. 

It never came. 

Instead Malfoy turned to go. Harry reached out before he could think twice, his hand closed around the Slytherin's wrist and he flinched but Harry didn't draw back. 

"What are you doing?" Malfoy spat and this time he sounded angry. 

Harry fought to remain unfazed. 

"I need you to understand..."

"Let go of me."

Harry let go and Malfoy drew his arm to his chest gingerly. 

 "I know what you want," he said. "You want me to forgive you so it won't burden your precious conscience."

No. That wasn't it. Right?

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Malfoy beat him to it. 

 "Spare me your pathetic excuses," he said. "You've never had to bear anything in your life and you will carry this around and it will eat at you until there is nothing left."

 "What do you know about my life, Malfoy? You who was pampered from the day you were born. What would you know about bearing burdens?" demanded Harry feeling his anger rising. 

 "Don't insult me. I know a lot more than you would think."

The anger and hostility had melted from his voice. He was stating facts and Harry knew there was something there so he forced himself to calm down as well and took a step forward. Malfoy held his ground but averted his gaze. 

 "Then just... Can we not do this?"

 "I'm going to have to ask you to elaborate," Malfoy whispered. 

 "You said it yourself that night. We're mates, there's no point of..." _hurting each other,_ he wanted to say but the words felt to heavy and Harry was scared the would drive Malfoy away. 

The blond pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed. "I can't have this conversation now." He was already turning away. 

 "When?" Harry asked. 

The wind tossed some dark strands in his eye and he shifted his head so that his hair fell away from his eyes. Draco seemed to be watching the movement carefully, dissecting it even. It sent chills up Harry's spine, made him want to reach out...

He swallowed. 

"Don't do this, Potter," was all Malfoy said and he had expected the words to be threatening but they sounded more like a plea. 

"I will," Harry said. "Because there's something wrong and I-"

Malfoy's face changed at that. "You think you can fix it? Why, because you're the Chosen One? Because it's your job to _fix_ things?" he demanded. "Well, look at me, Potter. There is nothing wrong with me and I don't need your pity or your goddamn sympathy."

Harry stood speechless as he saw tears leak out of the corners of Malfoy's eyes. Shit. He had never thought... He hadn't expected... There was clearly more to this than was being let on and Harry couldn't just walk away, not when someone was obviously in so much pain. 

He took a few more steps until he was only a foot away from Malfoy. 

 "I didn't mean it in that way."

Malfoy turned away from him. "Shut the fuck up, Potter," he sniffled. "I know you're enjoying this."

 "The hell I am," Harry responded quietly. He remembered the incident from last night. Madam Pomfrey had asked him to touch Malfoy and it seemed to have calmed him down. Harry wondered if it would work now or if it would just aggravate the situation. "Just... Would it help if I..?"

He held his hands out, palms facing upward to show he meant no harm. Malfoy turned to face him eyes already red and puffy, his cheeks stained with tears. There was a flash in his eyes, Harry could tell he was at war with himself and he tried to keep the shock from his eyes when Malfoy took his arms and put them around his back. Harry hesitate a minute before he pulled him closer despite the pain in his wrist. 

Malfoy didn't move. He merely stood there, body shaking with his silent sobs. 

 "It won't," he said into Harry's shoulder. "But I think I need it."

Harry dimly remembered that he should have been checking on Hermione but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not yet. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it kept running. 
> 
> Also, I've never written such a scene before (you know what I'm talking about;)) sorry in advance. For the end too btw. 
> 
> I wasn't sure about this chapter as whole but sometimes in life you need to just do it. 
> 
> TTM lovelies!
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_This time I really need to do things right_  
_Shivers that you give me keep me freezing all night_  
_You make me_  
_Shudder_  
_I can't believe it, I'm not myself_  
_Suddenly I'm thinking about no one else  
_ _You make me shudder_

**Stutter  
Maroon 5**

**Word count: 7655**

The interior of Slughorn's Potions classroom was slowly heating up though this had very little to do with potion brewing and much more to do with Hermione. It had started out ordinarily enough. Professor Slughorn had been late for the lesson, as teachers sometimes were, and his students had taken the opportunity to discuss amongst themselves Slytherin's recent win against Gryffindor in what was a very shocking display of its captain's capabilities. 

_"I hope it doesn't happen again. I couldn't live with myself if Slytherin won the House Cup."_

_"What d'you reckon happened to Harry?"_

_"Do you think it's You-Know-Who again?"_

 "Quiet down, sixth years," said Slughorn as he approached them and everyone began to file into the potions dungeon. Seats were taken without any more words and the professor deposited his books on the table. They landed with a loud thump which reverberated throughout the classroom. 

Professor Slughorn turned to write something on the blackboard. 

 "Can anyone tell me what that is?"

Harry looked to the blackboard and saw the words _Reviving Draught_ written on it in Sughorn's neat compact handwriting. 

Two hands shot into the air. 

Professor Slughorn pointed at Hermione. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

 "It's a potion used to revive someone under the effect of a sleeping draught."

Slughorn nodded. 

 "Good, good. Five points to Gryffindor."

 "Can anyone tell me the active ingredient in this potion?" he went on to ask, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

 "Mugwort, professor."

 "Correct."

Slughorn had began to say something else about the potion when he noticed that a hand was still up in the air. 

 "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

 "Belladonna." 

Slughorn frowned. Clearly he didn't like to have to ask his students to explain themselves. 

 "What was that, Malfoy?" he asked with a touch of annoyance when he said the name. 

Ron sniggered beside Harry. 

 "Snape isn't here to favor him," he whispered. 

Harry shrugged noncommittally. 

Unless he was very mistaken, Professor Slughorn was going to thoroughly put Malfoy in his place and the Slytherin didn't look the least bit afraid. 

 "Belladonna is the active ingredient in more recent versions of the Reviving Potion," he said. "You see, Mugwort was used but grew outdated with the passage of time and the discovery of more potent, that is to say effective, ingredients."

Harry looked to Slughorn expecting some sort of retort worthy of Snape but he was sadly mistaken for he received nothing. If anything, the professor looked stunned into silence, like he couldn't believe that one of his students had challenged him and was quite possibly right. 

 "Most informative, Malfoy," he said clearing his throat rather obtrusively. 

He however did not give any points to Slytherin which seemed to quell Ron's muttering beside Harry. Hermione on the other hand didn't seem ready to let the matter go. Her hand shot up in the air at once. Slughorn seemed eager to hear from her. 

 "Yes?" he said his voice now laced with irritation though Hermione was quite obviously on his side. 

 "Belladona may be the active ingredient in the more recent version of the Reviving Draught but according to _Most Potente Potions_ and _Potions: A Brewer's Guide,_ the old version of brewing the potion is preferred due to less side effects," she said in a rush looking flustered. 

Her eyes shot to the ceiling at once recounting everything she had said and once she was satisfied she had gotten it all in one sentence, her gaze returned to Slughorn, who was smiling appreciatively, then moved to Malfoy was openly glaring at her. 

 "Well, if you bothered to read books written in recent centuries, Granger," he said with derision, "you would know that the old methods are by now outdated and various ingredients have been added to counter the side effects."

Hermione's smile vanished from her face. 

 "The new method of brewing the Reviving Draught still presents more side effects than the old method and is not recommended for people suffering from acute Sleeping Sickness," she said. "And for your information, Malfoy," she added, "I, unlike you, have read every available book on potion brewing."

Not just those concerning the Dark Arts, her words seemed to imply. 

 "You tell him, Hermione," Ron was muttering under his breath though she couldn't hear him because she was all the way at the front of the class. 

Harry was watching the exchange with a high level of interest, as was everyone else in the class, because it was so rare that something came along to brighten Slughorn's long and dreary lessons. If Slughorn couldn't put Malfoy in his place then Hermione would just have to do- if the excited grins were anything to go by. 

Malfoy didn't look pleased and neither did he look like he would be going down without a fight. "I will have you know-" but whatever he had been about to let Hermione know they would never know for at that moment Slughorn silenced the entire class with a, "That's enough. Now I'll have ten points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor for that."

The class groaned. 

 "One more sound and I'll make it twenty," he warned. 

No other sounds ensued from anyone in the class and Slughorn appeared somewhat relieved. 

 "Now," he said, "you will be brewing the potion within this lesson," a list of ingredients had appeared on the blackboard as he said this, "and as you will recall, I promised you would be paired up. Please note that your partners are not subject to your opinion or choice and cannot be changed. This means that you will remain partnered for the rest of the year, no exceptions."

He picked up a long piece of parchment and began to read out names. Any hopes that Harry would be paired with another Gryffindor were thrown out the window as Slughorn seemed to have paired each Slytherin with a Gryffindor. Neville was paired with Pansy Parkinson, one of Malfoy's friends. 

 "Poor Neville," Ron said as he began to gather up his quill and parchment. 

Hermione was paired with Blaise Zabini who regarded her rather coolly as she walked to where he sat and Ron was paired with a wiry boy named Theodore Nott who Harry seemed to recall he had seen snogging Ginny in Hogsmeade. Ron resolutely gathered the rest of his things and made his way to the Slytherin clearly out for blood. 

 "Lastly," said Slughorn, "Potter and Malfoy."

Harry had known this was coming but he was still shocked when he heard Slughorn read out his name. He was tempted to raise his hand and ask for a change of partners, after all he was his favourite student thanks to the prince's potion making book, but he sensed this would not get him anywhere so he watched sullenly as Malfoy gathered his things from where he sat and made his way across the room. Harry would have been surprised at this had not all the work stations on the other side of the room been occupied. 

 "Potter," Malfoy said by way of greeting. 

Right, they were pretending it hadn't happened then. 

 "Malfoy," Harry responded in kind. 

Slughorn continued, "Now, because I noticed very few of you could brew the Draught of Living Death to perfection, I am willing to let your grades for this potion stand in place of the previous one. You have one and a half hours, you may begin."

Harry got to work on the Mugwort which from his copy of Advanced Potion-Making he gathered he was supposed to prepare first. 

 "Just because you got a perfect grade last time, Potter, doesn't mean you have to botch it for the rest of us."

Harry looked up from the Dehydrating Spell he was performing on the plant. 

 "What do you mean?" he asked a little ticked off. 

Hadn't Malfoy never had the phrase _don't say anything if you have nothing good to say_ before?

 "It says to prepare the newt's liver first," he responded. 

 "Well good then, I can see you're already working on that."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said, "but you're supposed to be working on the nightshade or can you not read?"

Harry glared. "I can read just fine," he said. With that he went back to dehydrating the Mugwort plant and resolutely ignored anything Malfoy said. It was not easy work partnering up with Malfoy and it was even harder ignoring him for he took it upon himself every time he could to say things such as "Really, Potter, can't you even stir properly?" or "Minced not diced, you blockhead" loud enough for everyone to hear. 

This humiliation coupled with that of losing the snitch to Slytherin (because people were definitely still talking about that) was more than Harry could bear to tolerate and it resulted in him throwing his knife at Malfoy halfway through their potion-making. Since he was in no mood to collect it from where it had lodged itself, Harry resorted to using a spell to cut up the remaining ingredients. 

He was pleased to notice that Malfoy was silent for the remainder of the lesson. 

{HPDM}

Draco tossed his bag aside and sank into an armchair across the fire. For once, the Slytherin dungeons were warm and toasty despite it being a cold day in the middle of October. Classes had just finished for the day and he was glad to be done. He was beyond tired, he was exhausted. He needed a break. 

A little ways away, two fifth year girls sat at a table intermittently doing homework and looking over him with fits of giggles sprouting from their mouths. Draco sighed. Such was the nature of life he supposed. "To be great is to be adored." A muggle saying, he couldn't remember by who. To his left Blaise sat at a table opposite Nott explaining something regarding potions and further down the table were to first years that were making each other laugh by manipulating their tongues to change shape. 

Draco regarded all this with an air of laziness. 

He should be enjoying his sixth year at Hogwarts, even if it involved doing things as mundane as picking on Potter and his gang. Speaking of Potter... Draco could still feel the sting where the knife had grazed his cheek. The nerve of Potter to act like the knife had barely touched him! Was Slughorn mad? Putting the two of them as partners was the worst idea he'd ever had, worse than thinking he could substitute Snape for potions master. 

Despite this though, a part of Draco did not mind having Potter as his partner and this part he loathed immensely. He would love to hate Potter and to treat him in kind but every time he tried... a part of him died inside. It sounded cliché even in his own head but there were no better words to describe the sensation he felt when he humiliated Potter. Or when Potter threw knives at him. 

 "Draco, there you are," said Pansy coming down the stairs from the girls dormitory. 

Draco didn't even look up. 

 "No, Pansy."

She stood before him obstructing the heat from the fire. "I haven't asked you anything yet."

 "I know," he said meaningfully. 

 "Draco darling," she purred. 

Draco looked up at that. "We agreed you'd stop calling me that."

She batted her eyelashes. 

 "I agreed to no such thing," she said. 

He rolled his eyes. 

 "What is it, Pansy?"

 "Well, the invites for the Halloween Party have been sent out," she said biting her lip. "And I was wondering if you'd changed your mind because it's going to be a blast and this party would be a really good idea for us to help you do... you know. Also, it would be a good idea for-"

 "Pansy."

 "Yes?"

 "You're babbling."

She cast him an incredulous look. 

 "I was not."

 "Sure," he replied calmly letting his head fall back against the chair. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.  

She smacked his arm. "Don't do that."

 "Do what?"

 "Act like you're above talking to me."

Draco could hear the disappointment in her voice and though it hadn't been what he was trying to do he suddenly felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he mumbled though he did not move. 

A few feet away from them, Blaise had put aside his pristine copy of Advanced Potion-Making while Theodore gathered up his things. He waved hello to the two fifth year girls who had given up staring at Draco (as well as doing their homework it appeared) which earned another fit of giggles and a lot of whispering. 

 _Silencio,_ thought Draco looking at them. 

The common room was immediately silent and once more Draco could relax in peace. The two girls stomped off, riddled with displeasure and over his charms textbook Blaise shot him a glare of disgust. 

 "Anyway," Pansy was saying. "I think you should come."

Draco was suddenly serious. 

 "You know I can't."

She sighed and perched on the arm of the chair. "Please," she whispered. "Even if it's after, the party ends at four so there'll be plenty of time."

Draco cast a quick _muffliato._ "I don't know how I'll be after," he said. "And I'm new to this so things won't exactly go according to plan."

 "Ok, I get it," she said nodding. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

 "I don't think you do."

Pansy frowned but didn't push the matter. 

 "Is your arm still..."

She nodded. 

 "Well, mine isn't," he said which caused her to gasp. "And Merlin knows what he'll do when he finds out."

The marking, as they were both aware, was a very painful experience. Both a psychological and physical ordeal and it had been known to drive lesser men mad from the pain. Getting marked again wasn't an option. Draco couldn't even start thinking about it. 

 "Listen," he said cursing himself for bringing up the topic. "Supper's already underway, we should go."

 "Since when do you force me to go down for meals?" she demanded. 

Draco laughed and removed the muffliato to he had cast. 

 "Blaise!" called Pansy as they headed for the portrait hole. 

 "What?" came the reply. 

 "We're going to eat."

Silence.Then: "Right. Save me a spot." 

Supper was a silent affair and aside from Blaise rushing in halfway through it claiming he had to finish his Arithmancy essay, Draco's end of the table remained silent. Afterwards, he remained behind under the pretext of finishing his food (which he had taken an extraordinary amount of time to chew) and Pansy and Blaise headed off the the dungeons. 

He wasn't sure whether Pansy noticed the rift between him and Blaise because she hadn't said a single word about it. It only made Draco more nervous because he knew she was planning something and the last thing he wasted right now was to face Blaise. He had to see him everyday sure but talking to him was a different matter. Blaise had been out of line for whatever reason but so had Draco. He should have leashed his temper but he had forgotten to medicate and everything had gone from smiles to sneers in .01 seconds. 

Draco knew they would move past this, they had a long history together and much of it had been riddled with misunderstandings but he didn't want to wait. He wasn't used to Blaise not talking to him, he wasn't used to that vacant stare, he wasn't used to Blaise shutting his mouth when he started talking then realised they weren't on speaking terms. 

Fuck. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Sometimes Draco wished he could turn back time and undo everything but that was only when he was feeling particularly irritated. Blaise had been there for him, always and in so many ways. It was a debt he would never be able to display... and something he didn't really want to think about now. 

He strode down the corridors and marched up the stairs to the sixth floor washrooms trying to appear as normal as possible. A few people greeted him on the way and others snickered behind his back as he passed but otherwise he was left alone. He stepped into the sixth floor washrooms and moved to the cauldron in which the Pepper-Up potion was brewing. 

 "Should be ready now," he muttered taking out his wand and dipping it into the maroon potion. 

He sniffed it. 

Vanilla. 

Draco smiled. It was ready. 

 "Oh, hello," a voice said from behind him. 

Draco turned. "Myrtle."

She smiled. "Draco."

 "Malfoy," he said firmly. 

She merely continued to smile. 

 "What're we brewing today?" she asked moving closer. 

Draco stepped aside. 

 "I am brewing Pepper-Up potion," he said. "You are in my way."

 "Oh, Draco," she said looking flustered. 

Couldn't she take a hint?

He cleaned his wand on a square of tissue paper and took out a set of two dozen vials he stored in the medicine cabinet. He muttered a spell and the cauldron began to empty while the vials began to fill one by one with the deep red liquid. 

 "What a clever bit of magic," said Myrtle putting her hand over her mouth. "Is it safe?"

Draco rolled his eyes. 

 "Of course it's safe, Myrtle, it's just a simple _Fill-It-Up spell."_

 "No, I meant the Pepper-Up potion," she said. 

He waved away the comment. "Perfectly safe," he said airily. 

He'd entirely excluded most of the undesirable qualities such as 'steaming ears' and the eventual drowsiness that ensured the restorative ingredients in the potion could work properly. Instead of cold medication he'd created a get-high-quick potion. Hell, where was his medal? This was a feat never before seen in potion making. Draco knew you could get illegal drugs anywhere in Diagon Alley but to do it in a school, with limited ingredients... That was something else entirely. 

The smile disappeared from her face, she didn't look like she believed him. 

Once the vials were filled, he shrank them to fit in his pocket, then scooped them up and put them away. He cast a quick scourgify on the cauldron. 

 "I used to be good at magic too," she said wistfully. "Until-" she hiccoughed and sniffed. 

Malfoy bit his lip. Merlin, how did you comfort someone when they were close to tears? _Like Potter did to you,_ his mind screamed but that was different. Draco was alive and breathing whereas Myrtle was a ghost. He couldn't... touch her. He also couldn't say anything because he didn't know what to say to her. He didn't really know her. 

 "I need to uh... get going," he said stepping around her. 

She looked up at him and he couldn't tell if she was crying or not. 

 "O-okay, I'll see you next time," she mumbled. 

He watched her float to her regular cubicle and disappear down the toilet. 

Vials clinking in his pocket, he took the steps up the seventh floor where he paced the large empty wall three times before the double doors sprang into existence. 

He stepped through them and began his search for the fifth time. 

{HPDM}

Harry looked up from his roast beef. He, Hermione and Ron had just returned from a particularly grueling Herbology lesson. The snuffargles they had been dealing with had proven particularly nasty and Harry would have preferred if he never had to see one again but much like the Blast-Ended skrewts, they would be seeing them for the rest of the term. However, this was not the reason he had looked up from his roast beef. 

 "Sorry?" he said to Hermione who had just said something to him. 

 "I asked you how your lessons were coming along," she said. 

He frowned. This was an odd question to ask. 

 "Well, you're in almost all of them," he said. 

 "No. Your other lessons," she said through gritted teeth.

Harry realised that she meant the lessons she had been having with Dumbledore. 

 "Well," he said swallowing first. "I've only had one, the second one's tonight, but I suppose you could say they're going okay."

 "What did you learn?" she asked curiously. 

Hadn't he told her? He seemed to recall having told her. Then again, he supposed he had been so busy he hadn't found any time to tell her. 

 "Mostly about Voldemort," he said. 

The great hall was so noisy and crowded that hardly anyone heard him use Voldemort's name. 

 "Oh?" she said. 

He nodded. 

 "Yeah. Stuff about his past and all." It didn't seem like it would be all that useful but Harry was willing to learn anything he could about Voldemort. 

 "That'll be useful," she said. 

He nodded again. 

 "It's better to know your enemy, know their weaknesses."

Suddenly having had enough talk of Voldemort, Harry said as he looked around the great hall, "Where's Ron."

Hermione sniffed unsympathetically. "Probably forgot to finish another essay."

 "You're not still-" Harry started to say but stopped. 

He had just seen Draco Malfoy get up and leave the Great Hall. 

Alone. 

 "Still what, Harry?" asked Hermione in the background but he was already standing up and mumbling excuses to her before he too exited the Great Hall. 

Harry wasn't sure what they were now. After he had comforted Malfoy in the Astronomy Tower a few days ago something had changed between them. It wasn't something obvious otherwise the rest of Hogwarts would have noticed it too but it felt like Malfoy was holding back when he insulted him. He didn't glare at Harry as much either. 

Were they acquaintances, friends, classmates? It had been on his mind ever since Sunday and Harry desperately wanted answers. He also wanted to know why Malfoy had been crying but Harry knew those were answers he would have to wait for, if Malfoy even decided to tell him. 

He walked past a gaggle of fourth years that looked like they were getting ready to prank people coming out of the Great Hall and followed at a discreet distance behind Malfoy- several paces behind him that is- so that even if Malfoy turned he, Harry, would look like he was just coincidentally going in the same direction. 

Harry waited for Malfoy to stop but he didn't, he went all the way up the castle to the sixth floor. What is he doing here? wondered Harry as he watched Malfoy step into Moaning Myrtle's washroom. He stepped closer to the door and peered past it to see Malfoy leaning over what appeared to be cauldron. He tested whatever was inside it with his wand and sniffed it. 

Was this what Malfoy was up to? Had Harry just followed him all the way to the sixth floor just to watch him brew illicit potions? He suddenly wondered whether everyone was right. Maybe Malfoy wasn't at all involved in the Dark Arts, maybe he was just sneaking off to brew potions. But why did his name disappear from the Marauders' Map from time to time? This wasn't a reasonable explanation for that. Perhaps if Harry stayed he would see something more. _Maybe you'll see his Mark,_ his brain supplied before he could shut the thought out. 

He was here because Malfoy needed someone not because he suspected him of being involved with Voldemort. That was different. It could wait. 

He knew he couldn't really stay long but he still had plenty of time before his meeting with Dumbledore. 

But as the minutes wore on (and Moaning Myrtle attempted to charm Malfoy), Harry could see that nothing 'Dark' was going to happen. Sensing that Malfoy was about to leave, Harry stepped away from the door and hid himself in an alcove a few feet away from Moaning Myrtle's washrooms. He heard footsteps as Malfoy exited the washroom and he began to follow him once more. Instead of taking the stairs down to the dungeons as Harry had expected he would, Malfoy instead took the flight of the steps that would lead him to the seventh floor. 

_What does he need to do there?_

Whatever Malfoy was doing on the abandoned floors of Hogwarts couldn't be anything good. He watched from the shadows as Malfoy paced three times before the large empty wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Harry immediately recognised this action as one that summoned the doors to the Room of Requirement. He watched as Malfoy threw open the doors and strode in. Harry followed and managed to slip in just before the doors closed shut. 

The room was as Harry had never seen it. There were dozens of ceiling-high piles of random objects everywhere such that they obscured what little light could be let in by the tiny square windows. He took a hesitant step forward then realised that he had lost Malfoy. The blond boy was nowhere to be seen in the large room. He needed to find him, preferably catch him in the act of performing some Dark Magic _(yeah, thanks for the reminder)_ before he ran out of time. He only had ten minutes to his appointment with Dumbledore. 

After wandering the Room of Requirement for what seemed like ages (but had only been five minutes), Harry was just about ready to give up. He had tried listening for any sounds, he had tried casting a Revealing Charm... he had tried everything short of revealing himself. 

Maybe that was it. 

 "I know you're here," he called but the voice that he heard say these words was not his own. 

Rather, it was the voice of Draco Malfoy who had at that precise moment, chosen to reveal himself. 

 "Well, well, Potter," he said wand in hand. "This is the second time I've caught you following me."

Harry didn't say anything. 

 "Haven't you got anything better to do?" 

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Malfoy beat him to it. 

 "Save it, Potter." He turned around. "You know where the door is."

This was not how things were supposed to go but they said to fight fire with fire. 

Harry raised his wand indignantly. _"Expelliarmus,"_ he said. 

Malfoy's wand soared out of his hand and into Harry's waiting palm. 

Malfoy's turned and his cold gaze met Harry's. 

 "You will return my wand to me," he said in a low voice. 

There was something menacing about how he said it but even as he did Harry could not help but notice the shadows beneath his eyes and the sickly air around him. 

Maybe it was the illicit potions he had been using. Or maybe it was more than that, maybe the potions were- a thought was nagging at him but he didn't have time to think about now. 

 "And if I refuse?" asked Harry innocently just to tick Malfoy off. 

The Slytherin stalked toward him and attempted to reach for his wand. 

 "No," said Harry holding the wand away from him even though Malfoy technically had a couple of inches on him. "Not until you tell me what you're doing here."

Malfoy laughed. 

 "As if."

 "Well," said Harry as he pocketed both his wand and Malfoy's. "I suppose I'll just have to keep your wand then."

 _"Levicorpus,"_ Malfoy said and Harry was surprised to find himself dangling in the air up side down. 

Malfoy could do wandless magic? 

Harry had no time to be surprised however because before he could do anything his wand and Malfoy's had slipped out if his pocket. Malfoy reached for his wand and kicked Harry's towards him. He said the incantation to end the spell and Harry tumbled to his feet. 

 "Go on then," said Malfoy pointing his wand at him, he was standing with his feet slightly apart as though expecting an attack. 

Harry was ready to utter a spell before he realised that he was late for his meeting with Dumbledore. 

 "I don't have time for this," he wanted to say. 

Instead he said, "I didn't come here to do this."

 "Is that so or are you just scared?" taunted Malfoy. He laughed. "Maybe," he continued, "maybe I should just attack you when your back is turned, like a coward."

Harry spun round so fast he nearly fell down. 

 "What did you say?"

 "You heard me."

 "Are you calling me a coward?"

Malfoy beamed though there was something akin to pain in his eyes even as he did it. "So you're not daft after all."

Harry raised his wand. 

He only had time to utter the word _"Protego"_ before Malfoy's _tantellagra_ hit him. He watched as the spell dissolved into a fine mist before his protective shield. Remembering how dangerous wizard's duels could get and knowing that Malfoy probably knew more Dark Magic than he did, Harry tried to find a way to end the duel before things got too heated. 

 _"Stupefy!"_ he yelled just as Malfoy said, _"Imperio!"_

The result was that they were both thrown back a distance of six feet. Harry rolled to his feet and tried to ignore the pain in his arms and legs. Malfoy seemed to take a longer time to get to his feet and despite doing it in the end, it appeared to take him twice as much energy to do so. He pointed his shaking wand at Harry. 

 "Walk away now, Potter and I'll let you live to tell the tale," he said his voice thick. 

 "What were you doing here?" insisted Harry because he was running out of time but the curiosity was eating him alive to the point that it barely registered in his mind that Draco had attempted to use an Unforgivable on him. 

Malfoy let out a frustrated groan and tugged hard at his hair. 

Harry stood aghast wondering what was going on. Was this another episode, the Malfoy he knew would never back down from a fight. Neither would he give Harry the chance to back down. What was going on? Had he finally reached his breaking point?

 "What was in that cauldron?" he pressed. 

 "You just don't see it, do you, Potter?" he yelled. "Your life is far too perfect for you to imagine that someone's somewhere in the world isn't."

 "Dammit Malfoy, are we really doing this again?"

He thought they were past this. 

 "Shut up!" shouted Malfoy. "Just shut up for a moment and listen."

Harry shut up, not because he was asked to but because he had entered into a mild state of shock. 

 "I'm sick of this, Potter. Maybe you don't understand how mates work, maybe you're just stupid but if you don't leave this room now I swear I will kill you and follow not soon after."

Was he hearing correct?

 "I don't know what's gotten into you, Malfoy," said Harry holding up his left hand placatingly. "But if you could just go back to hexing me-"

 "Weren't you listening?" he asked scathingly. "I. Can't. Do. That. Not even if I wanted to."

Harry was starting to see why it appeared to cost him so much to perform even a simple spell. He suddenly didn't feel right about dueling Malfoy. First he had got him when his back was turned now he was fighting him in what was clearly an unfair fight. As much as he wanted to hex Malfoy to the moon, he couldn't get rid of the voice telling him that it wasn't right. 

 "Okay," said Harry. "Let's call it a draw then."

 "No," hissed Malfoy walking towards him his wand still in his hand. Harry flexed his fingers getting ready. But it wasn't long before this action proved unnecessary for Malfoy has done the unthinkable and grabbed his hand gruffly. 

Harry wasn't sure what to feel. Or how to react. 

 "What-?" he started to say. 

Malfoy had never initiated contact before and Harry had assumed he had been (though hoped he wasn't) half high that night. It had been the only logical explanation to what happened. 

 "I thought you said not touching," Harry muttered. 

Malfoy was looking over his shoulder and Harry saw his jaw clench. He pulled back to cast him a cutting side glance. "You attempted to hex me." It was almost accusing. 

Harry felt the urge to run a hand through his hair. Malfoy was so hard to figure out that Harry thought all this mate nonsense would get him before Voldemort did. 

 "There was never any rule against that," said Harry tearing his gaze away from the side of Malfoy's face when the blond turned to look at him. 

 "It was rule three."

Harry wanted to laugh but resisted the urge to do so. 

Malfoy shifted so that the hand gripping (holding?) Harry's was no longer between them but at their side. His other hand ghosted over Harry's hip and Harry had to bit his lip to prevent the shiver that went down his spine. But Malfoy didn't seem content with fleeting touches, his hand rested fully on Harry's hip two seconds later and the dark-haired wizard couldn't contain a gasp. 

 "I- what are you doing?" he asked because they had never gone this far and also Harry felt like such a mess he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it if Malfoy did anymore touching. 

 "Well, rule one is gone with the wind so I figured..." And it wasn't even a proper explanation but Harry felt like it meant everything. 

 "What was rule two?" he asked after a long moment. 

Malfoy wasn't even touching him that much but somehow the contact, even through the layers of his uniform, made his skin heat up and blood rush to his head. He knew Malfoy could see the red in his cheeks, could feel it every time he shivered. 

He heard Malfoy sigh. "You've already forgotten," he said like he had expected it. Harry was sure that maybe he would remember it under different circumstances in a place far away from Malfoy and his breathy sighs but he could barely think straight now. When he didn't respond Malfoy went on. "We were not to speak of this to anyone."

Yeah, that. 

Unable to resist, he turned to look at Malfoy and found the blond watching him. He raised an eyebrow in question but all that went through Harry's mind was that they were less than a few inches apart and he could smell the chocolate cake he'd had for desert on his breath... Draco's gaze flicked to Harry's lips and he swallowed. 

Harry unknowingly attempted to step closer but Malfoy stepped back pulling his hand away from Harry's and the other from where it had been resting on his hip. 

Harry wanted to curse. Had he just..? Shit. Malfoy probably thought he was coming onto him and he probably wasn't even interested in guys like that. Fuck, what had he been thinking? Shame coloured his cheeks red as he forced himself to look anywhere but at Malfoy. 

 "Potter-"

 "I need to go," he said. 

Merlin this was so embarrassing. 

Of all the things he could have done, of all the people in Hogwarts...

He turned ready to sprint the hell out of the room. 

 "Very well, Potter," Malfoy said and Harry knew he knew he was embarrassed because they both knew what he had been about to do. "But we still have to discuss the ground rules."

 "I'll think about it," Harry said already practically out the door. 

The doors of the Room of Requirement were already closing behind him as he streaked down the corridors to Dumbledore's office. It was a whole two minutes before he got there and another long minute before the gargoyle took him to Dumbledore's office after he uttered "Acid pops" twice because he was too flustered the first time. 

 "Professor I'm sorry I-" Harry started to say but Dumbledore held up a hand from where he was seated reading a scroll. 

 "Simply tell me where you were, Harry and all will be forgiven," he said. 

Harry did not want to upset Dumbledore but he didn't want to lie to him either. 

 "I'm sorry professor, I was meeting someone and I lost track of time," he said. 

Dumbledore nodded. 

 "I understand, Harry. It is not uncommon to find that time has slipped by us," he said then added more firmly, "it is imperative however that you remember previous commitments as it is not prudent to keep others waiting. Now, if you don't mind, to the Pensieve."

Harry was so glad Dumbledore was not upset that he allowed himself to be guided to the Pensieve and forgot all about the incident with Draco Malfoy the minute his head broke the surface. 

{HPDM}

Draco Malfoy stumbled into the boys' dormitory thoroughly annoyed. He should have hexed Potter ten times over. He'd had his chance and he'd let it go all because he couldn't suppress his wolf instincts. Draco cursed. He wanted to throw something, why had he been so stupid? And holding Potter's hand like that- what had he been thinking? 

He hadn't been thinking. That was the problem. He would need to keep himself on a very tight leash from now on. No more hand holding, no more being followed to the Room of Requirement and most of all, no more dreams. 

_But he wanted to. You saw the way he-_

Draco shoved that thought deep into the back of his memory. It was just the bond, even Harry Potter couldn't resist the pull of it. He hadn't wanted anything, it had been the bond. The bond, he repeated over and over. 

Hands _all over..._

Potter leaning towards him...

His lips, his dazed gaze...

 "Fuck."

He tossed his bag aside and busied himself with changing into his pajamas not surprised that he was half hard. Once he was done he walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He would not jerk of to the thought of Potter... doing what exactly? Touching him? Kissing him? Moaning his name? 

 _"Fuck,"_ he growled gripping the sink. 

He rinsed his mouth and threw himself onto his bed. He was fully hard now and it was bothering him. The fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Potter wasn't helping either. With a groan Draco gripped the waist band of his pajamas and yanked them down. He grasped himself and was surprised to find he was already wet. 

 _Fuck you, Potter,_ he thought as he began to stroke himself. 

He was aware that he wasn't alone in the dormitory and he blindly searched for his wand on the bedside to cast a silencing charm. His mind fumbled around for the words until he finally recalled them. He was pretty sure he hadn't said them right and his voice could barely be understood but he had thought the incantation and if that hadn't been enough he could care less at this point. 

He just wanted to get off. 

He wanted it so bad that he forewent the teasingly slow strokes and jumped right into it. He could see Potter looking at him dazedly, leaning in... He felt his hands on his skin feeling... touching...

Draco could feel his movements become sloppy, he was thrusting wildly into his hand, sighing and whimpering. He saw Potter's lips part. 

_You like this don't you?_

He bit his lip to hold back a moan. 

 _Answer me._ Damn that stupid smirk. 

 "Yes," he breathed. 

Fuck yes. 

He could feel the heat pooling in his abdomen, the pressure... He was so close, he had to- 

Potter was looking down at him, still smirking. _Then come. Come for me, _Draco._ _

And he did. 

His vision went blurry and his breathing became erratic. It was loud and it was messy but the thought didn't strike Draco until several minutes later. He lay in his own mess, trapped in a haze of pleasure still lightly stroking himself, riding it out until he heard someone clear their throat. 

Draco scrambled for his wand, cast a scourgify and got underneath the sheets.  

Tomorrow. He would think about it tomorrow. 

* * *

Dear Mother,

I hope you are doing well. I am writing to you as you requested to tell you that I am in good health and getting on well. Everything is going as expected and nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I wish to remind you that I will not be home for the Christmas Holidays this year. I look forward to your reply and I hope to see you soon. 

Your son,  
Draco L. Malfoy  
12/11/1996

* * *

Dear Lupin,

Thank you for the tips and the detailed account of your first shift.I am writing to tell you that everything went according to plan. My first shift was a 'success'. Any advice you could offer regarding mates would be appreciated. 

Please find included a detailed account of my first shift. 

Sincerely,  
Draco L. Malfoy  
12/11/1996

* * *

The next morning, Draco rose earlier than his fellow Slytherins and went through his morning ritual of making himself look presentable because heaven knows he did not look it when he woke up. On his way out of the bathroom he bumped into Blaise. Still half asleep he blinked at him in confusion. 

 "Late night fun?" he remarked tonelessly. 

 "Fuck you," Draco responded pushing past him. 

He could tell Blaise wanted to argue the matter further but he wasn't the mood. 

 "We need to talk," he said instead and Draco stopped halfway to the bathroom. 

 "Is that what you want to do, talk? Or do you want to interrogate me?" Draco spat turning to face him. 

 "It wasn't... You know I didn't mean for it to come out that way," he said averting his gaze. 

Draco wanted to be angry but ultimately he knew Blaise and he knew he would never intentionally hurt him. They had both been worked up, Draco with his... whatever it was and Blaise... why had Blaise been on edge that day? Was this about that night?

 "About that night," he began. 

Blaise's dark brown eyes settled on him. "Let's forget about it."

 "What did I say?" Draco asked afraid that he had embarrassed himself. 

Blaise studied him for a minute. "It probably wasn't that important if you forgot," he said but Draco could tell whatever it was had changed something between him and Blaise. 

 "You know I don't do it on purpose," Draco said. 

 "I do. I know it has to do with your..." Blaise trailed off not sure what to call it. 

After all, mental health was relatively unheard of in the wizarding world and Draco had stopped fooling himself long ago. He was mentally unwell. He knew it. 

 "You're right. Let's forget about it."

Blaise offered him a smile but it wasn't the one he was used to seeing, the one he wanted to see again. 

 "Are you attending the Halloween Party?"

Draco was about to say no but stopped himself before he could. "Maybe. Why?"

Blaise shrugged. "It'll be good to have some fun."

 "Yeah," Draco said fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. 

It would be good to have some fun. 

After performing his ablutions, he made his way to the owlery to post his letters then headed down to the Great Hall where he found Pansy seated in her usual spot sipping on ginger tea. Blaise had not come down yet though Draco recalled him having been ready long before him. 

 "Morning," she mumbled looking up from her Defense textbook. 

She had bags beneath her eyes which had been hastily painted over with make up and her eyes were dropping. Strands of dark hair had escaped her hastily made bun and she kept yawning every two seconds. 

 "Morning," replied Draco drawing a cup of strong espresso coffee and some toast towards himself. "Sleep well?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

His night had been blessedly undisturbed and wondered who he had to thank for that. Then again, he usually slept relatively well after jerking off, it didn't have anything to do with Potter.  

 "What are you reading?" he asked. 

 "Defense," she said spooning some cereal into her mouth. "You do know Snape scheduled a test for today, don't you?"

Was it Friday already? Draco groaned and let his head fall into his arms. 

The last thing he needed at the moment was a test. Least of all in Defense. He could hope to pass Potions or some other class but Defense was another matter. All his father's schooling in the Dark Arts wouldn't help him here. 

 "I take it you haven't studied for it."

 "I'm a Malfoy," he said sitting up, "we study Dark Arts all our lives."

She smirked slightly. 

 "Of course, I should have known."

Overall, Draco thought he did alright on Snape's test though he could have sworn his godfather was going harder on him than was necessary. 

 "I expected better," he said after a degrading once over. 

Draco huffed silently and made his way back to his desk. 

He watched Potter block Snape's spells and couldn't help a swell of pride at how good his mate was at Defense. And true to that, try though he did Snape could not manage to give Potter less than a forty five out of fifty. 

Just as Ron Weasley was getting ready to undoubtedly fail his way through the test there was a knock on the door. 

 "Enter," called Snape his gaze shifting to the door. 

A short gangly boy of about twelve or thirteen entered the room. 

 "Can I help you?" asked Snape. 

The boy swallowed. 

 "I've been sent to fetch you by Professor McGonagall," he said. 

 "For what purpose?" asked Snape. 

 "She said to meet her on the Quidditch Pitch," the boy continued. "It's the headmaster sir... he's dying."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday lovelies and I'm back with another chapter!
> 
> No warnings for this one but don't forget to tell me what you think. 
> 
> Thanks for your support guys. Ily all
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_Might go to hell and there ain't no stopping_  
_Might be a sinner and I might be a saint_  
_I'd like to be proud, but somehow I'm ashamed_  
_Sweet little baby in a world full of pain_  
_I gotta be honest, I don't know if I could take it_  
_Everybody's talking, but what's anybody saying?  
_ _Mama said if I really want to, then I can change, yeah yeah_

**R.I.P 2 my Youth  
The Neighbourhood**

**Word count: 4848**

Narcissa Malfoy clapped her hands twice. She was seated in one of the arm chairs in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor dressed in elaborate lavender robes that brought out her deep brown eyes. Her pale blond hair was drawn back into an elegant bun and her face bore the faintest hint of carefully applied make up. The house elf, Lino, appeared. He bowed once. 

 "You called for me, mistress?" he said in his high pitched voice. 

Narcissa surveyed the dish rag he wore over his wrinkled leathery skin. Lino was a little older than most house elves but it had not been easy to find a replacement for their last house elf and the Malfoy family had been in great need of help around the house. Narcissa could hardly be expected to cook and clean could she?

 "Yes," she said smoothing the front of her well-pressed robes. "Fetch me some tea and biscuits will you?"

The elf bowed once more. 

 "Of course," he said. "Is there anything else that Mistress Malfoy will be needing?"

 "Yes. See if any letters have arrived for me."

 "Right away, mistress," he said before he disappeared with a _pop._

Narcissa sat back and allowed herself to enjoy the warmth coming from the fire. It was a cold October day but the rooms of Malfoy Manor were so warm it could have been summer. She was expecting Draco's letter any day now. It has been roughly one month since she had last seen him (and asked him to write to her) and in all that time she had received no letters from him. 

__

_Perhaps he forgot,_ she thought. 

With all the work he had to do and the task The Dark Lord had assigned him, he must have had a lot to bear. Narcissa let out a worried sigh. She hoped he was alright. She has never been one to fuss over her child, never one for too much mothering but Draco was her only child, she cared for him far more than she dared to admit. 

There was a loud _pop._ Lino had reappeared. He set the plate of biscuits and tray of tea on the coffee table before bowing once more. 

 "There were no letters, mistress Malfoy," he said. 

Narcissa nodded. 

 "Very well," she said regally. "That will be all."

Lino disappeared. 

Narcissa scented the tea. Precisely how she liked it. She poured some into a tea cup. Lino took his work very seriously, perhaps even more seriously than Dobby ever had and he always referred to her as Mistress Malfoy... she rather liked it. Just as she brought the cup to her lips, the sound of distant ringing filled the room. A frown creased her perfect features. 

She was not expecting any guests and Lucius would not be home for a few hours. 

Narcissa was about to call for Lino to check who was at the door before she realised he would do it without being told to. Whoever it was she would merely have to wait to see. Another _pop._

 "It is The Dark Lord," said Lino after a bow. 

Narcissa nearly dropped her cup of tea. She did not know if it was the lack of fear or the fact that he had become accustomed to The Dark Lord's presence but Lino's face showed no change as he delivered this statement. He merely watched his mistress politely from beneath hooded eyes awaiting her orders. 

 "Show him here, Lino."

A bow. Lino was gone but no more than half a minute, he reentered the room behind Lord Voldemort who was dressed solely in black with a dusty traveling cloak around his shoulders. His feet were bare, as usual, revealing long uncared for toenails. His red eyes watched Lino with distaste as he disappeared from the room. 

The Dark Lord seated himself opposite from Narcissa feeling quite at home. 

 "My Lord-" she began but he was already speaking. 

 "Imagine my shock, Narcissa," he hissed, "when I found that I could not apparate past the wards of your Manor."

Lino must have let him past the wards. Narcissa searched for a suitable response. 

 "We did not know that you would return, my Lord. We were under the impression that you found your new headquarters to your liking," she said. 

With these bold words she reminded him exactly whose house he was in whilst appearing subservient to him. He regarded her carefully and seemed to take a long deep breath. 

 "Would you like some tea, my lord? It is still hot."

__

Perhaps you will choke on it. 

 "Yes," he said. "I have travelled long and far."

Narcissa poured him a cup of tea and set some biscuits on a plate for him though she knew he would not eat them. Even while he had been living at their house, he had hardly eaten a thing with the rest. He preferred ordering Wormtail to milk Nagini, a distasteful process but not as distasteful as the act of drinking the milk itself. It had been known to drive people from the dining room. Narcissa found the whole process... primitive but she had been carefully schooled from a young age to never question guests. 

Even unwelcome ones. 

She set the snack before him. 

Voldemort lifted the cup to his thin mouth and took a sip as he gazed meaningfully at Narcissa. She remained calm in the face of this and drank from her cup as well if only to show she would never dare poison him. 

 "Have you received word from your son?"

 "Not yet, my Lord," she said setting the cup down. "But I expect I will hear from him soon."

 "I hope so, Narcissa otherwise the most unfortunate of things would be sure to happen."

 "I am very sorry to hear that my Lord doubts the capabilities of anyone in my family," she said silently. 

There it was, the look she knew never bode well for anyone. 

 "Your husband's work at the ministry has more than proved me right, has it not?"

 "That was an unfortunate accident."

 "I do not, as you well know, allow room for 'unfortunate accidents'."

 "I am well aware."

 "I would like a word with Lucius."

 "He is out."

 "Bellatrix."

 "She is in Albania."

 "Ah yes, I forgot," he whispered. 

Narcissa did not respond, neither did she move for at that moment a large snake had slithered into the room, past the table and paused at her feet. She fought to keep the fear off her face. 

 "It truly is a pity that no one can be reached save for you, isn't it?"

 "My Lord could trust me to deliver a message," she responded with forced calm. 

Voldemort seemed to notice this. 

He laughed shrilly. 

 "It would be a shame," he said, "if anything tragic were to happen, would it not?"

 "Very."

He smiled. 

 "It is my understanding that the Malfoy family is known to hold an annual Christmas Masquerade."

 "That is true."

 "It has come to my attention that you have decided to forego the festivities this year."

 "That is also true, my Lord."

 "Why is this?"

 "Because we have other pressing matters on our hands-"

 "You will have the Masquerade," he said. 

 "My Lord-" she started. 

 "No. It is of utmost importance to maintain a sense of normalcy especially to the outside world. Word has already gotten out that the Masquerade has been postponed."

She did not say anything. 

 "The Ministry," he said the word with distaste, "already suspects your family. You must not do anything to heighten that."

 "Very well, my Lord," she said. "I will begin planning at once."

Even as she said it she knew it was far too late to prepare for as splendid a party as was custom. They would have to do with something a little less grandeur this year. 

 "Before I leave," he said setting the empty tea cup down though Narcissa had barely seen him drink anything. "Any letters you receive from Draco are to be forwarded to me immediately."

Narcissa frowned. 

 "May I ask why?"

 "No you may not," he snapped. "However," he continued in a calmer tone, "I will tell you."

He paused and Narcissa wondered for a minute if she has pushed him too far. 

 "It is important that I know what steps he is taking to complete the task I set out for him."

 "Surely, I could relay the information to you myself," she said. 

He raised a hand to stop her. "As much as it would save me a lot of trouble, I don't quite enjoy our meetings," he said with no hint of propriety.

__

_Neither do I,_ she would have loved to say but she swallowed the words down with one last sip of tea. 

 "Very well," she said. "If my Lord wishes it then it shall be so."

Something akin to a smile but much more malevolent crossed his face. 

 "I have not enjoyed talking to you, Narcissa," he said eyeing Nagini. "Inform Lucius that I wish to speak to him when he returns and tell that boy to hurry up." He stood. The snake slithered towards him. He reached down to scratch its scaly skin. "It is my hope that when I return I will find this Manor more... open to my presence."

She rose as well. 

 "Of course my Lord."

She did not bow. She did not call Lino to show him out. She did not look away. No, Narcissa Black Malfoy watched The Dark Lord leave her house and cursed him to the depths of hell. 

__

May he be struck down. 

__

May the boy kill him. 

That night when Lucius arrived, she relayed her conversation with Voldemort to him. Lucius appeared stricken by the fact that The Dark Lord had returned to their home after leaving to find 'more suitable headquarters' only a fortnight ago. 

 "Did he say anything else?" he asked setting down his dragon hide briefcase. 

 "We have to hold the Christmas Masquerade."

Lucius sighed. 

 "I knew this would happen."

 "Then why did you let me postpone it?"

 "Because I hoped he would not notice."

 "The Dark Lord notices everything."

 "Any word from Draco?"

She shook her head. 

 "Let us hope he has not forgotten where his loyalties lie."

{HPDM}

 "Dead?" asked Ron beside Harry. _"Dead?"_

He seemed quite unable to believe it and so did Snape who had not yet managed to recover from his shock. 

 "Dismissed," he said sweeping out of the classroom behind Creevy. 

There was a pause before the students recovered and managed to collect their books and quills. Silenced reigned as they all filed out of the DADA classroom. Ron was saying something to Harry but Harry could not hear him. There was a loud buzzing in his ears, his heart was beating fast. How could Dumbledore be dead? Hadn't he just seen him yesterday? He had looked alright to Harry- except his hand of course though that would hardly cause his death. 

__

Would it?

 "Dying," Hermione pointed out silently. 

Ron looked at her incredulously but said nothing. 

Harry turned to Hermione. "D'you think-?"

She seemed to have been thinking along the same lines for she shook her head sadly. "I don't know, Harry. It could've been a sign of some sort of disease..."

 "But Dumbledore would know," said Ron looking at a loss for words. "He would know if-"

 "What if he couldn't prevent it?" asked Hermione forgetting that she and Ron were not speaking. 

 "Dumbledore's the greatest wizard that ever lived," said Ron indignantly. 

 "I know that," said Hermione though she did not push the matter further for she too looked like she was suffering from shock. 

The halls were unnaturally silent as students milled around to get to their classrooms and except for a few hushed whispers, everyone seemed to be thinking about the fact that Dumbledore was gone. 

Harry could not believe it. He still had so much more to learn from Dumbledore. How could he be dying? Voldemort only feared entering Hogwarts because of Dumbledore. What would happen now that he was gone? 

Harry didn't think he was ready to fight him. 

He didn't think all the time in the world would be enough. 

 "Are we still expected to go to classes?" asked Ron his gaze settling on McGonagall who was shepherding first and second years to their classrooms and calling to the older students to go to class. 

 "I think so..." muttered Hermione. 

 "How do they expect us to pay attention?" demanded Harry. 

 "Exactly!" said Ron. 

Despite this however, it seemed that they would have to endure their classes to the end of the day. McGonagall had promised there would be an announcement at supper and Harry could not keep calm. Twice, professor Sprout asked him if he had suffered a snuffargle bite and she'd been about to send him to the Hospital Wing before seeing the look in his eyes and reconsidering. 

Harry would simply have used the time to go to Dumbledore's office to see if... if he was really... Harry could not even bear to think the words. 

And so it was that the entire school passed unwillingly through the rest of their lessons with bated breath hoping against hope that the headmaster really was not dying or dead. At the end of their last lesson- a particularly hazy lesson of Divination- Harry, Ron and Hermione (much like everyone else) rushed to the common room to deposit their bags before hurrying back down to the Great Hall. So great was the number of people moving into and out of the common room that the Fat Lady's portrait had to remain open for at least five minutes before everyone was out. 

 "What do you think the announcement is about?" asked Hermione wringing her hands. 

 "Dumbledore of course," Ron said. 

What it was really about Harry could only guess. 

Harry was so distracted by the thought that Dumbledore could be dead that he barely had time to appreciate that his two best friends were talking to each other once more. 

Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium and a hush fell over the Great Hall. 

 "This morning you received some news that the headmaster was gravely ill-"

Harry's fists were clenched, he had forgotten how to breathe. 

 "I would like to inform you all that-"

 "It was merely a rumour," said a voice. 

Dumbledore strode into the room from the teacher's entrance and the entire school seemed to release a sigh of relief. Harry resumed breathing, his fists unclenched beneath the table. 

He was alive. 

 "Thank you, Minerva," he said. Professor McGonagall nodded and returned to her seat. "It was a mere misunderstanding. Simply an extra dose of the Draught of Living Death. Now, I beg you all to put this behind you and return to your meal."

Slowly, the sounds of eating began to fill the Great Hall and Harry, who had not eaten anything since breakfast, was beginning to feel hungry. He served himself some roast pork. 

 "Thank Merlin," said Ron the pallor fading from his face. 

Beside him, Hermione had stopped wringing her hands and was looking visibly more relaxed. 

 "I knew he couldn't be dead," said Hermione who had only a few hours ago been arguing that Dumbledore could have had a disease. 

Ron, like Harry, chose to ignore her though he made a point to glance repeatedly at the high table just to make sure that Dumbledore was still there. He remained there. 

The rest of supper passed in comfortable silence though at the end when everyone was full and all the dishes had been cleared, a few students stood and began to clap. Soon everyone was doing so. Harry could have sworn he saw Dumbledore's eyes shimmering. 

{HPDM}

Draco had thought... he had nearly hoped for a moment that... No. It was difficult to believe that he would still have to do it. That he would be expected to... 

He reached for his quill and some parchment and penned a quick note. After that, it was not long before he sank into a fitful sleep. 

{HPDM}

Harry was eating a bowl of cereal the next morning when the daily post arrived. Hermione deposited two sickles in a tawny owl's pouch then began her daily morning ritual of scanning the paper for Voldemort. Beside Harry Ron was eating some fried eggs. 

 "If you ask me, it must have been someone on the grounds," he said over a mouthful. "We didn't hear of anyone coming in..." He paused to chew. 

Harry's mind flashed to Snape. 

Would he go so far as to attempt to murder the headmaster? Hermione looked up at that moment and she seemed to know what Harry was thinking once more. 

 "Don't even think about it," she hissed looking around to make sure no one was listening. 

 "I didn't say anything," Harry protested. 

 "But you were thinking it," she continued. "Dumbledore trusts Snape."

Harry scowled. "Since when am I not allowed to think?"

Hermione merely went back to scanning the _Daily Prophet._

Harry turned to say something to Ron when a small brown old landed on his toast. Unremorseful, it held out its leg. Harry sighed and untied the piece of parchment from its leg. 

He unfolded the small square of paper. 

 "Who's it from?" asked Ron

 "Lupin," said Harry. 

 "What does it say?" asked Ron craning his head to get a look. 

 "Er, it's personal," said Harry folding the piece of parchment. 

Ron squinted but thankfully at that moment Lavender walked by flashing him a bright smile as she did. As much as Harry sympathised with Hermione (the look on her face was tortured), he was secretly glad for it because another brown owl had just swooped down and nearly spilled his tea. He scowled at it but the creature didn't seem to care. It held out its leg and waited patiently. Hedwig should be more like this but Harry knew he spoiled her far too much. 

He untied the envelope and allowed the owl a few pecks at his toast before it flapped it's wings and disappeared. Harry had started to slip the envelope into the pocket of his robes when Ron spoke up. 

 "Okay, who's that one from?"

Hermione was looking at him over the Prophet. 

 "No one."

 "Oh come on, Harry. Since when do we hide mail from each other?" asked Ron. "Remember the Howler in second year?"

 "That doesn't count, everyone heard that."

 "Yeah but we always read each others letters," Hermione said. 

They had let the first one go, he knew they wouldn't let this one go as well. But it could be from anyone. 

__

Malfoy. 

How would he explain why Malfoy was writing to him? What if he said something along the lines of 'I don't know why you tried to kiss me, Potter but I don't swing that way and I would appreciate it if you didn't try it again' in regards to what happened yesterday? How the hell would he explain that?

 "I'd really rather not-"

 "You're always sneaking off these days and you've been stalking Malfoy even more," Hermione said. "You never tell us anything."

 "Stalking Malfoy?" Ron said. 

Hermione looked at Ron pointedly. 

 "I have not-"

 "Have you found out anything?" he asked conspiratorially. 

Harry latched onto the opportunity to change the topic. "Not really but he's been..." he stopped suddenly unsure if he should mention the potions or the fact that Malfoy had been using the Room of Requirement. 

 "He's been..?" asked Ron motioning for Harry to finish. 

 "That's not the point, Ron," Hermione said. Then she turned to Harry, "Well?"

 "I- I can't," he said. 

She huffed and went back to the Prophet. "Fine," she said resignedly. 

Ron sank in his seat. 

Harry couldn't help feeling really bad for dampening the mood but he just couldn't risk opening the letter in front of them. It was too risky. As much as he would love to tell them about his situation with Malfoy, Harry didn't think they were ready to hear about it yet. They wouldn't understand. They would think it was another scheme to rope him in. 

Besides, it felt good to finally have a secret. He shared everything with Ron and Hermione and being 'The Boy who Lived' meant that privacy was non existent. Couldn't he have just this one thing for himself?

A few days to Halloween, in the dead of the night, Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and crept out of Gryffindor Tower. He made his way as silently as he could up the steps remembering to jump over the trick stair on his way up. 

Finally, he reached the seventh floor. 

He paced three times before the large empty wall thinking of a place to relax. Two large double doors appeared. Harry pushed though them and stepped into the large sitting room. There was a fire going and a few chairs scattered around the room. A few candles bathed the room in a soft yellow light while giving off a faint hint of sandalwood. Harry scanned the room as he took off his invisibility cloak which he tossed on an arm chair. 

 "Well?" he said to the seemingly empty room. "I'm here. "

It turned out that the letter Hermione and Ron had been fussing over that evening they received news of Dumbledore's health had actually been from the Slytherin Committee (because apparently such things existed) officially inviting him to the Halloween Party in their common room. It would begin an hour after the Halloween feast and the dress code was 'tantalizing' because the members of this so cold committee believed everyone could pull off the look. 

He had also been informed that he could bring a plus one along but that was it. The rest of his friends would have 'better luck next year'. 

Harry had been toying with the idea of going ever since he received the letter and he wondered if Malfoy had sent the invite. Was it an excuse to see him again? Did he want to see him again? Why?

 "I didn't think you'd come."

Harry pressed his lips together. 

The other letter had been short, written in barely legible cursive asking him to come to the Room of Requirement on the third Saturday of October at eleven o'clock. Harry did not need to see the letters D. L. M at the bottom of the piece of parchment, he did not need to think, he had known who it was the minute he read the first sentence and he had known he would go. 

 "We can't keep meeting like this," he said even though these meetings were about the most exciting thing that happened in his life these days. 

But he was still embarrassed about what happened the last time they met and he had resolutely been avoiding Malfoy's gaze the entire week because he couldn't get it out of his head how Malfoy had stepped back when he realised what Harry had been about to do. 

Malfoy moved out of the shadows. 

 "That's precisely the reason I asked you to meet me," he said. 

Harry noticed that Malfoy's longish hair was tied back with a cream coloured elastic today, its colour nearly matched his hair. He was dressed in black fitted pants that clung to every part of his lower body and a blue shirt the first three buttons of which were undone. The effect was that it gave him an air of nonchalance that, strangely, appealed to Harry. 

 "How do you mean?" he asked tearing his gaze away from the bit of Malfoy's chest that was exposed. 

 "The full moon is approaching," he said moving closer. 

Harry held his ground. There was no hesitation today, Malfoy moved with the ease and self-assurance Harry was used to seeing and although Harry was not looking he could tell that Malfoy's gaze was trained unwaveringly on him, he knew because he could feel the goosebumps on his skin. 

 "So?" he asked still looking at the shelves of books. "Unless it's an invitation..."

 "Don't be daft, Potter," he said and Harry could have sworn he flushed though it was hard to tell in the low light of the room.  

Also, he wasn't looking. 

He _wasn't._

He wasn't supposed to be anyway but when had Harry ever done what he was supposed to?

 "This is serious," Malfoy said. 

He had stopped moving but that was because they were now only a foot apart. Harry could feel something tugging at him, urging him to move closer but bit his lip and remained put. He was not going to embarrass himself again. 

 "Okay." Then he realised Malfoy must need something otherwise he wouldn't have called him here and it probably had to do with their 'situation'. "What is it?"

Malfoy shoved his hands into his pockets. 

 "We need to keep meeting."

__

No problem. 

 "What?" Harry forced himself to say but it came out too fast and sounded fake so he forced himself to slow down, take a deep breath. "Why?"

 "You heard me."

 "Why?" he asked again because he wanted to hear it. 

Wanted to hear that Malfoy needed him. 

 "Because the bond won't calm down," he said. "I feel it more than you do and it's nagging at me."

It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear but Harry supposed it came close enough. Still, he couldn't afford to seem so eager. 

 "What good will us meeting do?" he asked. 

__

I mean, it's not like we'll be doing anything, right?

 "I don't know," Malfoy said slowly. He was looking at his shoes in thought, almost like he'd forgotten Harry was in the room but then he spoke again. "I'm at my wit's end here too."

Harry sighed. 

 "I don't know..." he said and this time it was not an act. 

He'd been feeling restless towards Malfoy ever since the events in the Astronomy Tower and he wasn't sure meeting up with him regularly would make things better. In fact, it would probably make him do something stupid. Again. 

 "Think about it. Think about what Dumbledore said. We need to do something about this and ignoring it is clearly not the way to go about it."

Harry knew there was no other way out of it. He hadn't read anything about werewolf bonds and mates but he grasped the basics from what Draco had told him over the last few weeks. They needed to do something about the bond and they needed to do it as fast as possible. 

 "Fine," he acquiesced. 

 "Good," Malfoy said. "Once a week seems fair enough."

He pretended to think about it. 

 "Ten o'clock every Friday, here."

 "Okay. Done." Harry started to leave but Malfoy stopped him. 

 "You should take these with you."

Harry looked at the pile of books Malfoy had picked up from a stool beside the sofa. He had to have been carrying no less than a dozen books. Funny enough, he didn't seem to be sagging beneath the weight. 

 "If those are books on the _Dark Arts_ then I'm going to have to say no thank you."

 "They're not- just take them."

Harry approached them cautiously. "What are they on?"

 "Werewolf bonds," he said. "You're lagging behind, Potter."

Harry stood before Malfoy for a moment wondering how exactly how he would take all those books from him. 

 "Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter. Use your wand!" yelled Draco. 

Clearly the books were getting heavier. 

Harry took out his wand. 

Without thinking it through properly, he said, "Accio books."

Harry supposed he should have been thankful there were no other books in the room otherwise he would have been nothing more than a pile if broken bones. 

He looked up to see that Malfoy was chuckling lightly. 

 "Alright," Harry said after a moment. "You've had your laugh."

Malfoy merely smiled. A real, actual smile- not a sneer or smirk- and it was disarming. Harry almost couldn't believe it. The Malfoy he knew (or had known) would have taunted him for not using the correct spell. Instead he was smiling. And offering Harry his hand...

Harry glanced at it for a second feeling the weight of what he was offering. 

This new Malfoy he did not know well but perhaps he would like to. Perhaps they didn't always have to fight. Perhaps they didn't have to be enemies anymore. Perhaps something good could come from this. He shifted so that the books on top of him slid to the floor, he had made up his mind.

He accepted. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. Proceed with caution my lovelies and don't forget to TTM in the comments or on my [twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/account)
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_Come as you are, as you were,_  
_As I want you to be._  
_As a friend, as a friend,  
_ _As an old enemy._

**Come As You Are  
Nirvana**

**Word count: 6686**

 "Alright, we'll be flying the standard _Saturn Formation_ today," Harry said to six shivering Quidditch players on the last Friday of October. 

He knew the team was looking forward to the weekend and the imminent Halloween Feast that would be taking place on Saturday evening. They had two hours to supper and Harry intended to maximize that time and get some good practice in. Losing to Slytherin didn't mean their game was lacking as a team, they just needed to try harder. Besides, he hadn't been in form when they played against Slytherin. He was over Neville, Dean and Ginny's speeches about not blaming himself for the loss. Harry knew Quidditch required team effort but at the end of the day it all rested on the seeker. It had been up to him and he had failed all because he had missed the warning signs. 

Harry should have listened to his body but that was in the past now and he was trying to forget. He just wished the rest of Hogwarts would shut up about it. The Gryffindors especially. He had never known them to be so... critical. He supposed there were a few times he had noticed it- and perhaps he should be used to it- but it was getting on his nerves and he didn't know how to silence them without making the evening news. 

_Give them a win._

Yeah but Harry wanted to win too. This whole thing was a fight. It was a pointless fight- he shouldn't be engaged in some battle for dominance with his housemates- but Merlin, couldn't they let it go already?

 "Ron," he said because he noticed they were looking at him expectantly and he had gotten lost in his thoughts again. "Keep a good eye on the Quaffle. Demelza, fly a little faster and Ginny-"

 "Fly a little lower?"

 "No-"

 "Keep an eye on the beaters?"

 "No," Harry said clenching his teeth. "Just- get out there."

All seven of them mounted their brooms and flew into the air. 

Harry noticed that Ron seemed to have improved. He blocked most of the goals scored by Ginny which seemed to both anger her immensely and motivate her to play harder. He liked that. A little competition within the team was bound to strengthen them. He couldn't remember when Ron had gotten so good though. Had it started the day he gave him the _Felix Felicis_ potion before tryouts?

Obviously he'd been unstoppable then but had he played just as well in the friendly? Harry couldn't remember as he hadn't really been watching Ron but he supposed that if the score had been 70-80 (in their favour and without the additional 170) then Ron must have been doing something right that day. 

 "Good work, Ron!"

Ron grinned and gave him a thumbs up. 

Harry was glad they didn't practice with the snitch otherwise he would have no time to be the captain at all. He didn't know why he accepted the position in the first place. Being seeker was a given, call him vain but Harry was pretty sure he'd been born to play that position. But he didn't have to be the captain. Anyone else could have taken that position, someone like Katie Bell or Angelina Johnson and yet he had accepted it. He had caved under the pressure. 

He watched as Katie Bell swung her bat and nearly hit Demelza who was flying past with the Quaffle in her sights. 

 "Sorry," she called. 

Demelza barely looked up but the sound distracted Ron who let in a goal. 

 "Pay attention, Ron," Harry said absently. 

Ron nodded. 

 "Got it."

Ginny flew past and nearly bumped into him. 

 "Stay in formation, Ginny," he barked. 

She slowed to a stop, her brow creased. "Whoa, okay. I'm sorry. Just... calm down."

Harry didn't know why he was so upset but all he could think in that moment was that Ginny had been in the wrong place and nearly knocked him off his broom. None of the other players seemed to have noticed their exchange so he brushed it aside. 

 "Whatever. Get back in your position."

He didn't mean to be so short with her but he was suddenly in a bad mood. 

Harry watched them play for another half hour before  he signaled for the team to land and gave them his observations. He told them to fly higher and faster, to dodge better and pay more attention. When he asked Ginny if she could take a more defensive stance she merely shrugged and looked away. "Sure," was all he got. 

Overall, Harry thought practice went rather well and was happy enough to release the team half an hour to supper. 

 "Good work guys," he said. "We'll meet again on the first Friday of next month."

The team grumbled their assent and trundled off the pitch lead by Ginny who Harry promised himself to seek out and apologise to. 

Ron stayed behind to help him gather all the equipment and they carried it together to Madam Hooch's office on the ground floor. They made their way to the showers after and Harry was so glad for the warm water that he shut his eyes for a full minute and allowed himself to savour it. 

 "You know, I heard Dean getting off in here the other day," Ron said breaking the silence. 

Harry kept his eyes shut. 

 "Yeah?" he said. 

 "Yeah," Ron said. "And he wasn't alone."

Harry frowned and opened his eyes. "Okay, but it wouldn't be the first time someone has jerked off with other team members present."

It was a boys' bathroom, what did Ron expect?

Harry reached for the standard issue soap as Ron went on. "No, _I know_ but that's not what I meant."

Harry frowned again. "What did you mean then?" he asked knowing Ron had been trying to draw the words out of him. He seemed to want Harry to react to this story. 

 "There was something else in the shower with him."

 "Okay..?" Harry said before the words hit him. _"Oh."_

 "I know right?" Ron said. "I never would have pegged him as a fag but with the way he acts I should have known."

Harry's hand paused on his chest at the word _fag_. Somehow, the word sounded derogatory coming from Ron's mouth, as though he really truly despised it and the people it described. He realised now that he didn't really know Ron's opinion on sexuality and he was surprised it had never come up in the six years they had known each other. 

 "The way he acts?" Harry repeated because he'd been silent too long and Ron was expecting a reaction from him. 

 "Yeah. He's always hanging around Seamus, touching him. And it's not just with him, you know? He does it to other people too and I think they just let him because they don't know how to tell him no."

Harry guessed 'other people' here meant other guys.  

He had never noticed anything of the sort with Seamus but then again was it because he too was a... fag? Had he been doing the same things Ron claimed Seamus had been doing, without noticing? Was this Ron's way of telling him to back off?

Harry didn't know when he realised he was gay. It hadn't been an epiphany or anything. He'd just noticed himself observing boys more, appreciating their body structure more than girls'. Was he still gay even if he hadn't done anything with a boy? _Draco Malfoy,_ his brain whispered but that didn't count. The most he'd done was hug him and that wasn't gay was it?

_Was it?_

Harry couldn't believe he was having an existential crisis at this moment. Why had he never thought about these things before? Why had they never crossed his mind?

 "I take it homosexuality is a taboo in the wizarding world?" Harry said not sounding one bit like the mess he was. 

 "A taboo?" Ron scoffed. "It's two steps away from being illegal."

_Well, shit._

Harry did not realise he had forgotten about taking a shower until Ron drew back the curtain and frowned at him. "What's taking you so long, Harry? I'm starving."

Harry was too stunned to be embarrassed. 

He yanked the shower curtain closed. "Give me a minute," he said hoping Ron hadn't seen how red his cheeks were. 

It was all too much to take in, he couldn't even begin to fathom what Ron had told him. Even after they had changed and made their way to the Great Hall, Ron's words were still ringing in Harry's ears and all he could hear was _fag._

{HPDM}

The Slytherin common room had been unusually full the entire day. It was the Saturday of the infamous Halloween Party and somehow Pansy had managed to wrangle all the sixth years (except Draco), most of the fifth years and a couple of fourth years into helping her set everything up. He even thought he saw a couple of house elves hovering around the common room though he couldn't really be sure. 

Banners were put up, furniture was rearranged and snacks were laid out. Someone had even managed to transfigure one of the tables into a gramophone though Draco didn't see how this would help as he didn't know anyone to have music on them. You couldn't just transfigure music, could you? Draco didn't know and he didn't particularly feel like thinking about it at the moment. 

The prospect of his shift occupied his mind much more than anything could. So much so that he didn't notice Pansy was speaking to him. 

 "What?" he said absently, thumb twisting the ring on his index finger. 

She was scanning a long piece of parchment furiously and muttering to herself. Her eyebrows were pulled together and her nose was wrinkled. 

 "What?" Draco repeated, louder this time. 

She looked up. "Ugh, it looks like there's a large number of Gryffindors attending this year."

Draco frowned. 

 "You should have dialed back on the invite privileges," he said. 

 "Tell me about it," she mumbled. "Even Harry Potter's on here."

Draco chuckled but said nothing. 

 "Well, you know what they say." Pansy rolled up the parchment. "Still waters run deep."

Draco was sure that after those prudish Hufflepuffs, the Gryffindors would be the first to get drunk. Oh my, he could see it now. He was almost disappointed that he would be missing the party. 

Pansy had certainly brought enough liquor to inebriate the entire student body for three consecutive nights. 

Draco looked at the time. It was half past six. He still had quite a bit of time before he needed to go to Snape for his regular doses but he was feeling restless and he didn't think eating would do anything to ease it. He was feeling it again, his body was too hot for his clothes, his skin too sensitive... He knew he needed his mate now that his wolf instincts were kicking in but Potter was God knows where doing whatever he did on Saturday evenings. He needed to burn some energy and he needed to do it now. 

 "Where's Blaise?" he asked unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. 

It was not Pansy who answered for she had moved away to oversee the setting up of the gramophone. It was Nott who spoke instead. "He's upstairs reading or something."

Draco climbed the steps to the boys' dormitory fiddling with his collar the entire way. He threw open the door to find Blaise reclining on his bed with a piece of parchment and a pot of ink hovering on either side of him. 

 "-is why moonstones should not be used to brew-"

 "What are you doing?"

Blaise gave him a particularly thorough once over. "I was trying to finish an essay on Cleansing Potions before you barged in here."

 "Cleansing... What the fuck Blaise?" he said. "It's Saturday."

Blaise sighed. 

 "You may not believe it, what with my stellar grades, but I stayed up last night doing Slughorn's essay."

 "Oh I believe it," muttered Draco. 

Blaise shot him a dirty look. 

 "I'm bored anyway, what did you have in mind?"

Draco shrugged and tugged at his shirt undoing a few more buttons. 

 "Feeling alright?" asked Blaise with a raised eyebrow. 

Draco shifted and settled on his bed arms and legs spread out. Blaise's face appeared in his field of vision a few seconds later. He put his fingers underneath Draco's eyes. 

 "Stop," Draco said batting him away. "I'm clean for fuck's sake."

 "Good," Blaise said still not moving away. "You get stupid when you're high."

Draco ignored the comment and unbuttoned his shirt all the way. The cotton of his vest was less agitating on his skin but it still felt uncomfortable, like he shouldn't be wearing anything. 

 "Draco," Blaise said putting his hand on his neck to tilt his head up. 

Draco sighed and his eyes fluttered shut. 

Blaise withdrew his hand as if he had been burned. 

Draco whined. 

 "What's going on, Draco?" he asked nervously. 

 "Shift..." he mumbled wrenching the shirt of his arms. He could feel Blaise's cool fingers peeling the material away from his skin and it soothed him a bit. "Need..."

Blaise withdrew his hands once the shirt was off. 

 "No..." Draco said pulling him back. 

 "Draco stop. You shouldn't- Fuck, Draco. You're not in the right state of mind."

 "Just... Wake me up... at eight," he muttered wrapping his arms around Blaise and drifting off. 

Draco woke to someone insistently shoving his shoulder. 

 "Wha-?"

 "Get up, Draco. It's eight." Oh, it was just Blaise. Draco reached for the other side of the bed in search of him but all he got was rumpled sheets. His eyes cracked open. "You better leave before the party starts."

Blaise was standing before him but he looked... different. 

It took Draco a moment to realise why. He was dressed in fitted black pants and a wine red waistcoat that showed off his arms and Draco absently wondered when he had been bulking up. His dark bangs were brushed to one side and his eyes had the faintest hint of kohl. 

 "You... you changed?" Draco asked. 

 "You didn't expect me to attend a party in my school robes, did you?"

He hadn't even been wearing school robes to begin with but Draco wasn't thinking about that now. 

 "Yeah but I was... we were..."

He'd expected Blaise to... God, he was so stupid. As if Blaise would ever make a mistake like that again. 

 "Never mind," he said getting off the bed. He slid his feet into his shoes and straightened his clothes. 

 "Thanks," he muttered. 

Blaise smiled. 

 "No problem."

Blaise opened his mouth to say something more but Draco left before he could. He probably pitied him for that faux pas and Draco had never felt so stupid in his life. He descended the stairs to Snape's classroom where he knew he would find the ex-Potions master. 

Ten minutes later, in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, Draco uncorked the bottle containing the Calming Draught and swallowed the liquid before he could think twice. He glanced at the phial containing the purple-coloured wolfsbane potion and decided to give the Calming Draught some time to take action. It was a higher dose so he would know when it did. 

He almost couldn't believe Snape hadn't accompanied him to the forest today. Perhaps he'd only been intending to do it for his first shift or maybe Draco's words the last time had warded him off. 

Either way, Draco felt it was better this way. He didn't need his godfather breathing down his neck every second asking how he could help. If Snape had chosen to guide him in his task then that was on him. Draco could care less. He hadn't asked for help. He hadn't asked to be chosen. 

He hadn't asked for anything. 

Draco sank to the the ground against the stem of an enormous oak. 

He was beginning to feel drowsy. He wondered if this was what Dumbledore felt when he had been close to death that day. Close to death... How close was _close?_ Would it feel like he was dying? Draco knew it was time to take the potion if such thoughts were invading his mind. 

He uncorked the vial of wolfsbane but before he could drink he heard the sound of galloping. He grabbed his wand from the ground and shone its narrow beam in the direction of the sound. He heard something like the whinny of a horse then a thump followed by a loud grunt. 

 "Hello?" he said pushing himself to his feet and taking a step out of the clearing. 

There was no answer. 

 "Is someone there?" he asked pointing his wand in the direction he thought the sound had come from. 

 "Put that thing out, boy," he heard a gruff voice say. 

 "Who's there?"

 "Put it out."

Draco frowned. 

 "And if I don't?"

 "Do you want to get trampled by a herd of centaurs?"

_A centaur._

It shouldn't have surprised him. He was in the Forbidden Forest, the realm of all creatures imaginable. He was in their territory now. 

_"Finite Incatatem."_

The light went out. Draco heard the centaur clop into the clearing. 

 "What are you doing?" he demanded. 

 "Hiding," returned the man. 

Part man. 

He was tall, he stood at least three heads above Draco and had a scarf tied around his neck. Draco's eyes moved from his hair to his eyes to his five o'clock shadow...

 "You're that centaur that's teaching Divination," he said recognition in his voice. "Ferdinand!"

The centaur cut him a glare. 

 "It's Firenze."

 "Yeah, that," said Draco swaying slightly on his feet. "Can you really see the future?"

He'd only ever heard of centaurs before, he'd never actually seen one and he was interested in their apparent level of intelligence. 

 "No," said Firenze still glaring. 

 "Can you at least do some fortune telling?"

 "We centaurs do not do such paltry activities."

So what could he do?

 "What is a student doing here after dark?" asked Firenze as if only realising that he was talking to a student. 

 "Detention," slurred Draco. 

Firenze watched him closely. "Alone?"

 "Professor Snape went to er... investigate the herd of centaurs."

Firenze reared back on his hind limbs. 

 "Fool! They will kill him. We must hide," he said approaching Draco. 

Draco held out his hands. "No. You must hide. This is my clearing."

 "By what law?" demanded Firenze. 

 "It's mine," persisted Draco almost childishly. 

Firenze stepped back. "Very well, but when they do find you you're going to need help and you won't get any from me, you won't."

More afraid of being trampled by a herd of centaurs than one centaur discovering his secret, Draco motioned for him to come into the clearing. 

 "Fine," he gritted out and Firenze looked visibly pleased. "But you have to be gone the minute the full moon comes out."

They heard the distant sound of galloping. 

 "Why?"

 "None of your business," said Malfoy crossing his arms. 

Firenze held up his hands in surrender and moved to the back of the clearing where there was an oak of enough breadth to hide him. 

 "You must come away from there..."

 "Nicholas," Draco supplied staggering out of plain sight. 

Firenze frowned. 

 "Hmm... I don't seem to remember a Nicholas... Are you in third year?"

Did he look like he was in third year? 

 "Just shut it."

The sound of galloping was now getting nearer and Draco was certain the dark figures he saw rushing through the forest were not figments of his imagination. 

 "Here they come," whispered Firenze. 

Draco didn't need the play-by-play. He could see them just fine on his own. 

They rushed past in a blur of dust and Draco had to shut his eyes (which had began to water) until the sound of galloping became distant once more. 

 "Are you crying?" asked Firenze. "Your future is not that bad..."

But Draco was not listening, he was already on the ground writhing, going through the rigorous process of a shift for the second time in his life. 

 "Get away," he snarled reaching for the wolfsbane which he forced himself to swallow. 

Firenze took one look at him and galloped away. 

Deep down Draco was glad. He couldn't have another person witnessing his shift again but his mind didn't have time to acknowledge the fact because another wave of pain crashed into him and swept him away. 

{HPDM}

Harry stared at his trunk and sighed. 

It was already fifteen minutes to ten and he was sure the party was well underway by now. He'd made the last minute decision to actually attend the Slytherin Halloween Party but he was having second thoughts now as he realised he had nothing 'tantalising' to wear. His trunk was filled with baggy denim trousers and oversized jumpers. 

Merlin, he should just give up on the party. He knew what Slytherins were like and what they would be wearing, he would stick out like a sore thumb. 

 "Harry," Ginny called. "I'm coming in."

Ron grumbled something from behind his bed hangings but said nothing more. 

According to him, the only reason Harry was going was so that he could keep an eye on Ginny and Harry had left it that. The real reason he was going... well, he wanted to have a good time of course and he did want to keep an eye on Ginny in case Nott tried anything but a small part of him couldn't deny that it was because he wanted to see Malfoy. He bet he would be dressed in the finest outfit, something even the Slytherins would drool over. 

Ginny stepped into the room and stood beside him before the mirror. She tilted her head to the side and surveyed Harry. 

 "Merlin," she sighed. "Come here."

Harry turned to her, she was already crouching on one knee. 

 "What are you-?"

 "Shh," she said. "Just let me do my thing."

Ginny took out her wand from her boot and gave it a complicated flick. _"Parvus."_

Harry gasped as his pants began to shrink until they fit him just right. He looked down at himself then at his reflection in the mirror. 

 "Wow," was all he could say. 

Ginny smiled. 

 "A little to tight if you ask me," Ron grumbled from his bed where he had stuck out his head to see what was going on. 

Dean was looking too. 

 "I think they look good, sexy even."

Harry didn't miss the disgusted look Ron threw in his direction but he couldn't help blushing at the compliment before he stopped himself. He said the pants were sexy, not him. 

 "If you think that now," Ginny said completely ignoring her brother. "Wait till you see what I'm going to do next."

Before Harry could say anything, she pointed her wand at his knee and said, _"Fugere."_

 "Ginny," he said but she was already doing his other knee. 

Ron meanwhile looked scandalised and Dean was smiling brightly. 

 "Merlin, why the hell are you tearing his clothes?" Ron said in shock. "How d'you expect him to show up to the party looking like that?"

Ginny laughed and stood up rearranging the skirt of her dress as she did so. Harry didn't know why he hadn't noticed it when she first came into the room. She looked pretty, very pretty. Her dress might have been a little short (if Ron had anything to say about it) but not too short and she had even applied some lip gloss and liner around her eyes. Her hair was parted on the left and he suspected Hermione had used the same spell on it she'd used on herself in fourth year because it was unnaturally straight. 

 "It's a trend," Ginny said finally looking at Ron. "It's what all the cool kids in London are doing these days."

Ron narrowed his eyes. 

 "And how would you know that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Saw it in a magazine."

Ron looked like he wanted to question her further but Ginny cut him off. "What do you think, Dean?"

 "It's bloody perfect," he said. "Shite, Harry, who're you meeting tonight?"

Harry looked away to hide his ever growing blush. 

 "Do you think you could do my jumper too?" he asked holding up his hands and looking at the baggy sleeves. 

 "Oh no," Ginny said. "It's part of the look. It's cute and the pants are sexy, they complement each other."

 "Oh," Harry said. 

His knowledge on fashion was clearly lacking. 

 "But I'll be happy to do the rest of your jeans for you," she said. "Maybe I'll even rip a couple more."

Ron made gagging noises. 

 "What was that spell again?" asked Dean. 

Ginny just smiled. 

Ron retreated behind his bed hangings with a loud sigh and Harry felt he was able to breathe once more. 

He looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look too bad and he supposed if all the kids on London were 'doing it' then it must look good. 

 "I would do your face but we don't have time."

Harry laughed to hide the fact that he was glad they didn't have time. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with wearing make up. 

 "Thanks," he said turning to her. Ginny waved it off. "No really, I mean it. And I'm sorry about yesterday."

She smiled. 

 "I know you've got a lot on your plate," she said. "Just do me a favour next time." 

 "Yeah?"

 "Tell me what's bugging you instead of taking it out on me."

She laughed but he didn't join in. 

 "I'll try."

 "Good," she said linking her arm with his. "Now let's go have some fun."

As it was a Saturday evening, most of the Gryffindors were seated in various parts of the common room and Harry was not spared  from the stares and whispers. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his jumper and bit his lip. 

 "Relax," Ginny said. 

He didn't relax until the same words left Hermione's lips. She appeared to have been doing some study but her face brightened when she saw Harry and Ginny. She smiled knowingly at Harry's ripped jeans. 

 "You both look good," she said. 

Ginny smiled. 

 "And we're going to have so much funnnnn!"

Hermione laughed. "Ginny, there's other people here too."

Ginny shrugged. "Still sure you don't want to tag along?"

Hermione shook her head. "Parties aren't for me, you know that. I'd rather stay in and read a book."

 "Typical," Ginny said shaking her head. 

 "You should get going, didn't the party start an hour ago?"

Ginny laughed. "The party has barely started, Hermione. Enjoy your book," she called as she dragged Harry out of the common room. 

Curfew had been pushed to eleven since it was Halloween and a few people were wandering around the corridors in costumes but other than that the hallways were empty. The walk to the Slytherin dungeons was silent until they stood before the portrait. 

 "Uh. I probably should have told you this sooner but I'm probably going to spend most of the party with Theo so..."

 "No problem," Harry said. "I was planning on meeting someone too." He didn't want Ginny to feel obligated to spend the entire time by his side and he didn't plan on third-wheeling either. 

Her eyes widened. 

 "A Slytherin?"

 "Yes... No. Maybe? I don't really know."

She gasped. "Was it the person who invited you?"

He shrugged. 

 "Who invited you?"

 "No clue. There was no return address."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "A secret admirer then. Merlin, you're life is so interesting."

He laughed at that. 

You don't know the half of it. 

 "Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to give me the password?" demanded the man in the portrait. 

 "Happy Halloween," Ginny said. 

Harry was surprised to see the portrait swing aside. 

 "It's just for tonight. They'll probably change it back once the party's over," she explained. 

 "Oh they most certainly will," Harry thought he heard the portrait say but he wasn't sure because the minute he swung aside to let them in his ears were assaulted with the sound of pounding music. 

Ginny grinned and pulled him into the common room. 

There were people everywhere; dancing, drinking, snogging... Harry tore his gaze away from the couple and forced himself to take in his surroundings. The Slytherin common room wasn't that much different from the Gryffindor common room. It was a little bigger, less cozy and there was green everywhere but other than that it was pretty much similar. 

Ginny tapped him. 

 "I'm going to look for Theo," she whisper-yelled. "Go meet your mystery man."

She winked and was gone before Harry could correct her assumption. 

Harry looked around him wondering what to do. The center of the room was clearly the 'dance floor', that's where most people were and they looked half... conscious? Harry didn't know how to describe it. They looked kind of like Malfoy looked the first time he bumped into him. 

 _High,_ his mind supplied. 

It wasn't that he didn't know what it was. Dudley and his gang had smoked cigarettes nearly every evening in the park and he'd even heard words like _'hard stuff'_ and _'fairy dust'_ being thrown around. It never crossed his mind that the wizarding world had such things too. Even when he'd seen Malfoy in the sixth floor washrooms, it hadn't really hit him. 

Harry realised he had been staring at the gyrating bodies. He tore his gaze away. There were some arm chairs and sofas positioned around the dance floor with coffee tables in front of them. Some people were simply enjoying their drinks but most people were using them to get some thorough snogging done. The chairs, not the tables, that is. 

Harry's gaze landed on a dark-haired boy who was leaning over... another boy, his cherry hair caught Harry's attention. The two were kissing passionately, their bodies moving to a rhythm unknown to him. He was shocked that they were doing it so openly. Hadn't Ron told him homosexuality was taboo in the wizarding world? Or maybe they didn't care. 

Harry once again had to force himself to look away. After what must have been a good fifteen minutes spent just standing there, he decided to get a drink. Everyone else seemed to be drinking something about of large sparkly cups, he may as well get one if only to seem like he had something to do. 

Harry crossed the room to the far end where the drinks table was located. There were a couple of snacks as well but they seemed to have been neglected for the most part. A gangly boy stood behind the table with some sort of thin pipe in his hand. The pipe was attached to a large transparent... tank? Could it be called that? It looked like an aquarium except it was cylindrical and filled with a luminous blue liquid. 

Harry stood there for a moment before the boy motioned for him to hold out his cup. He filled it to the brim with the blue liquid then flicked the switch to shut off the flow. 

 "First time?" he yelled. 

Harry nodded. 

The Dursleys had never allowed him to go to parties and he'd never dared to sneak out and go to clubs like Dudley sometimes did. 

 "You only wanna drink from this," he explained tapping the tank. "Everything else is probably doped."

Harry nodded, thankful for the advice. 

He grabbed a handful of crisps and retreated to an unoccupied corner. It was barely two seconds later that he was scanning the room for Malfoy's blond head but there were so many people in the room and the lighting was so poor that he couldn't really tell who was who. 

His drink was halfway gone when he spotted Ginny on the dance floor. Her hips were swaying to the rhythm and her head was bobbing back and forth but it was not her movements that captivated him. It was Nott's. The blond boy wasn't doing much but the way he held her hips and sometimes pulled her close only to grind against her made his heart rate double. 

He licked his lips and raised his cup to take a sip but it was empty. 

 "Here," he heard. 

Harry looked up and was met with Zabini's cool gaze. Harry didn't know if it was the drink or the lighting but Zabini looked good. Like he'd actually put some effort into what he was wearing. Harry took the drink from him with a mumbled thanks before he realised it wasn't the blue liquid the bartender had told him to drink. He eyed the cup warily. 

 "Relax," Blaise said. "It's just a cocktail."

 "Is it doped?" he asked. 

More like demanded but Blaise was a Slytherin. A Slytherin that hated him so of course he had the right to be suspicious. 

But Blaise just laughed. 

 "Of course not," he said. "Would I give that away for free?"

Harry was forced to agree but he was still suspicious. 

 "Drink," he said motioning to him. 

Blaise didn't even hesitate. He raised his cup to his lips and took a long sip, eyes never leaving Harry's as he did. His pupils were blown wide and Harry had a feeling he'd maybe had some of that 'hard stuff' but whatever it was wasn't in the drinks. Blaise licked his lips when he was done and Harry found himself watching the action. 

 "Well?" he asked. "Aren't you going to have some too?"

Harry took a sip. 

It was bitter but there was an underlying hint of sweetness as well. He could also taste lemon and a few other things he couldn't name. 

 "Good, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. 

 "What is it?"

Blaise smiled. _"Blaise's Fantasy Fix._ It's a family recipe."

_What a family._

_"Amoenum,"_ he said. "Tell that to Murray if you want more."

And he was gone before Harry could ask why he'd given free access to his drink. 

The next few hours were spent in a haze of music and Blaise's cocktail. He had settled on one of the couches at some point because his legs had began to hurt but he knew he looked horribly out of place with all the couples getting it on around him. 

He stood up and headed over to Murray. 

 _"Amoenum,"_ he said holding out his cup. 

 "It's only be two hours and you've had five of those."

Harry shrugged. He didn't feel drunk so he assumed whatever was in Blaise's cocktail wasn't that strong. 

 "Whatever," Murray said pulling another pipe from underneath the table and filling Harry's cup to the brim. 

 "Thanks."

He was halfway to the sofas when someone grabbed his arm and dragged him in the other direction. 

 "Ginny? What are you doing?" he asked. 

His fingers reached for the wet spot on his pants where the cocktail had spilled. 

 "Come and have some fun. How long have you been sitting on that couch anyway?"

 "I don't really want to-"

 "Loosen up, Harry," she said throwing up her hands. 

When he didn't move she frowned. 

 "What is it?"

 "Well, I don't really know how to..."

She threw her head back and laughed. "It's pretty simple. You just move to the music a bit. Like this..."

She lowered her arms and moved side to side in time with the beat. 

 "Okay, now you try it."

Harry tried it but he felt a little awkward doing it. 

 "There you go." She pointed at his cup. "Finish that up."

He bit his lip and drained the cup in five seconds. Ginny took it from his hands and tossed it aside. 

 "Okay, now move back like this... and then move forward again... Yes, like that."

Harry smiled nervously. He was pretty sure Ginny was just drunk and he wasn't doing this well at all but he was having fun, that's all that mattered. 

 "Come on, Ginny," Theo said approaching her from behind and placing his hands on her hips. "I want to show you something."

Ginny smiled widely at Harry. "Keep dancing." Then she was gone. 

Harry felt a little self-conscious but when he looked around him he realised that most people were either high or drunk, no one was looking at him. He may as well have fun. 

He moved his body a little, then a little more and soon he was moving back and forth like Ginny had shown him. He closed his eyes and smiled until he bumped into someone. 

 "Sorry I-"

 "You weren't looking?"

"Yeah," Harry said and Blaise waved it off. He was still dancing to the music and Harry tried not to watch his movements too closely. 

 "How much have you had?" he asked with a glint in his eyes. 

 "Six cups."

Blaise raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He simply moved closer to Harry and continued dancing. 

Harry stepped back in surprise. 

 "What are you doing?"

Blaise smiled. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his arms and Harry knew he must have been dancing for quite a while. It made his body shimmer in the light. 

 "Having fun."

Harry's eyes widened because he'd heard that before, he just couldn't remember where. 

Blaise bridged the gap between them again and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder before shaking his hips in the most mesmerizing way. 

 "I uh..."

 "You can do it too," Blaise said eyes half lidded. "It's fun."

Harry didn't want to but he found himself moving experimentally just like Blaise had. 

His eyes lit up. 

 "Yes. Like that..."

His hands travelled down Harry's chest and to his hips. He smirked at the look on Harry's face and opened his mouth to say something more but a voice cut him off. 

 "I see you're getting comfortable in my absence."

Blaise threw his head to the side. 

 "Draco," he said making no move to pull away from Harry. "Welcome."

Draco who was dressed in a simple pair of trousers and a light shirt did not look amused. He pulled Harry away and Harry was so shocked that he let himself be lead to Malfoy's side without a word. 

 "Lighten up, Draco."

Harry finally came to his senses at the use of Malfoy's first name and pulled his arm out of Draco's gasp. 

 "We were just dancing."

He didn't know what made him say it but he felt the need to tell Draco he was having fun and there was no bloody reason to overreact. 

 "Have you been drinking his stupid _Fantasy Fix?"_ Draco- Malfoy- demanded. 

Harry shrugged. 

 "I had a bit."

Blaise had his hand on his arm and was pulling him back to him, still moving his hips seductively. 

 "How much?"

 "Two, maybe three cups."

Blaise laughed. 

 "You're a _horrible_ liar, Potter." He started trailing his hands over Harry's body again and Harry heard Malfoy growl. 

 "Stop touching him, for fuck's sake."

Blaise turned to him with a wicked grin. "What are you going to do?" he asked hooking his fingers through Harry's belt loops and drawing him closer. 

Even in the low light of the room, Malfoy's livid expression was visible and the fire in his eyes was something that Harry thought Blaise shouldn't be fueling. Not if he wanted to make it through the night. 

Malfoy pushed Blaise away and stepped up to Harry. With no preamble whatsoever, he pressed his lips onto his in a fierce kiss. Harry stood frozen in shock and before he could think to do anything Malfoy had pulled away. 

He turned to Blaise whose dark gaze had never left them. "Back. _Off."_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a little too much fun with this one. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

_If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch_  
_Make it a good one._    
_And if you wanna make it through the night, you better say my name like_  
_The good the bad and dirty._

**The good the bad and the dirty  
Panic! @ the Disco**

**Word count: 4300**

 "What _is_ wrong with you?" Harry demanded trying to get his arm out of Malfoy's grasp. 

The blond didn't look at him, he didn't even appear to have heard him. Harry stopped in his tracks and refused to move. Malfoy turned and glared at him. 

They were no longer in the Slytherin dungeons. Malfoy had been very adamant on dragging Harry out of there as soon as possible and instead of loud music and dancing, they stood in a cold corridor on the first floor with silence all around them. 

 "Have you no boundaries, Potter?" Malfoy demanded his voice echoing in the silent corridor. "Did you have to get it on with my best friend in front of everyone?"

 "First off we were not getting it on," he said finally yanking his arm free and pointing a finger at Malfoy. "And even if we were it would be none of your bloody business."

Malfoy's eyes darkened. 

Harry was bluffing. He doubted he would ever get with Blaise Zabini- the very though of it made his stomach churn- but Malfoy didn't know that and a small part of Harry wanted to pay him back for all the years of mistreatment and bottled up anger. 

 "You really don't understand how mates work, do you?" Malfoy spat viciously. 

 "I understand well enough but I don't belong to you, Malfoy. You don't own me."

Malfoy stalked towards him, the dark glint never leaving his eyes, until Harry had his back against a wall. He refused to look away however, if Malfoy wanted to play this game then he would play too. 

He looked down at Harry and brought his face closer. For a moment he was afraid Malfoy would kiss him again (and he would let him) but his nose brushed against his cheek and hot breath swirled in his ear. 

 "I don't own you _yet,"_ he whispered and Harry thought he could feel something wet against his ear. "But not for long."

He pulled away and Harry was filled with the inexplicable need to touch but he held himself back and shoved Malfoy away instead. The blond barely moved back a step but the added space helped Harry clear his mind and get his body under control. 

He was pretty sure he was half hard by now and he didn't need Malfoy seeing that, he would never live it down. 

 "Don't touch-"

 "Really. So you're up for grabs by my best friend but not me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

He was not up for grabs by anyone but his heated reply was drowned by Malfoy's voice. 

 "I didn't touch you, by the way. You got hard from the thought of me touching you." He turned to leave. "Think about that."

{HPDM}

Harry didn't want to think about it, he really didn't, but over the course of the next two weeks Malfoy was _everywhere._  

Potions was a nightmare. Malfoy was as scathing as ever. There were no sly remarks, no winks or any accidental touching for that matter. Instead Malfoy carried on like Harry did not exist, like he hadn't kissed him in front of the whole Slytherin common room and told him he would own him. 

He had been waiting for news about it to get out but days passed and Harry didn't catch any whispers about it in hallways or by the common room fire or in the Great Hall. Either no one had seen it or they had but couldn't remember- the entire room had been inebriated when he'd arrived so it would be no surprise. 

But still, Harry couldn't help but feel it was too good to be true. Hadn't there been one sober person in the party? And why was Zabini acting like nothing had happened as well?

His gaze shifted to the olive skinned Slytherin who was glaring at Ron mercilessly and shouting at him to hurry up and chop the asphodel root. 

Was it some sort of agreement between him and Malfoy to put everything behind them? It wasn't like Zabini had been making a move on him anyway, he had clearly been drunk... or high. Maybe both. And it never went past dancing. Zabini had been touchier than Harry would have imagined him to be and he couldn't say he had been comfortable with it but that had been the alcohol. It did that to people. 

And he was half sure he hadn't been the only one Blaise danced with like that, that night. 

 "Fucking stir the potion properly, Potter," Malfoy snapped following his gaze. 

Harry jolted out of his daze and glared at Malfoy but stirred the potion anyway because he wasn't in the mood to bicker at the moment and Slughorn was eyeing him like he expected a ten-out-of-ten. 

Harry had become used to Malfoy's attitude and foul moods over the years and more so in the past week so it wasn't really a surprise they were back to _Regular Malfoy._ He wasn't sure if _Astronomy Tower Malfoy_ or _Room of Requirement Malfoy_ would make an appearance any time soon but he wasn't holding his breath. Because of all this, he was woefully unprepared when everything suddenly changed. 

Harry was sitting opposite Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall one evening with his back to the Slytherin table. Seamus was telling a story about his great aunt's last visit and everyone on their end of the table seemed to be listening. Even Hermione who was reading her Arithmancy text book looked up periodically and smiled. 

The mood was generally light and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves but Harry could not bring himself to join in. A lot of things had been stressing him out lately. 

Why had Malfoy kissed him and told him to think about it then proceeded to ignore him like he didn't exist? Why had Blaise touched him, looked at him like that even after Malfoy had kissed him?

What was really going on here?

Perhaps he had become a little egotistical but Harry was used to drawing glares and insults from the Slytherin for merely walking down the hallway. He wasn't used to bring ignored and it made him grit his teeth in frustration. 

What did Malfoy really want?

He vowed to corner to him as soon as possible and get some answers. He couldn't just kiss him and walk away. He hadn't been drunk as far as Harry knew and there was too much between them for him to get away with something like that. 

A wave of laughter caught his attention and his head snapped up but it had not come from his housemates. His eyes instinctively sought out the Slytherins. It had not come from them either- it was the Hufflepuffs- but Harry was already looking now and he couldn't bring himself to look away. 

But that was okay because Malfoy wasn't looking in his direction anyway. He was talking to his dark haired friend Parkinson whose back was to him so he couldn't see her expression. 

Zabini however, seemed to notice him almost immediately (as if he'd been on alert) and he held Harry's gaze for a long minute before looking away. There had been something in his eyes that made Harry's breath catch, a warning. 

What was Zabini's issue with him anyway? He'd been the one to offer him that stupid drink of his, he'd been the one encouraging him to dance, he'd been the one touching him. 

Harry would have continued with that line of thought if he had not noticed Malfoy's gaze on him. His eyes raked over Harry and a slow grin curved his lips upward. 

The stew on Harry's spoon dribbled back onto the plate. 

Malfoy looked down at his own plate and sliced a piece of his cake unhurriedly, as if he knew Harry would still be looking when he looked up. 

He was. 

Malfoy opened his mouth to eat the piece of cake loaded with cream cheese but paused mid air and looked up to make sure Harry was still looking. Harry swallowed and Malfoy smirked as he pushed the fork into his mouth. 

He twisted it and leaned his head back slightly, clearly enjoying the flavour then his tongue darted out to clean away smears of cream cheese on his lips and Harry forced himself to look away then because he could feel something flaring in his belly. He could feel the burn in his cheeks and the sting from where he had gripped his spoon to hard. 

 "Everything alright, Harry?" Hermione asked looking at him with concern. 

He blinked at her for a second before her words fully registered. 

 "Yeah." Ron was looking at him as well but he wasn't saying anything. "I'm fine."

Hermione didn't look like she believed it but she went back to her book and Harry's gaze returned to his beef stew. 

He was not going to think about this. He was not going to play into Malfoy's hands. 

He had just been eating cake after all.

It was nothing to get worked up about. 

{HPDM}

Malfoy stalked into the Slytherin common room and climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. 

He flung his book bag aside and run his hands through his hair as he paced the room. 

He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. The worst part was that Potter wasn't even doing anything. He wasn't trying. It didn't matter to Draco though, his wolf instincts kicked in every time he saw him, even so much as thought of him. He wanted to touch him, to feel him and he wasn't sure if he could control himself any longer. 

 "Everything alright here?"

Draco spun round. 

Blaise stood at the door his arms crossed, a slight smile on his face. 

 _Bastard._  

 "What do you want?" Draco sneered. 

Blaise's smile didn't falter. 

There was nothing to talk about. Draco hadn't laid his claim to Potter yet (something he'd quickly remedied at the party) and as much as it made him want to punch something, he couldn't legitimately get angry with Blaise. 

He was still angry though. 

 "You seem worked up."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And you care because?"

 "I don't actually," he said matter-of-factly as he moved to his bed and put his bag down beside it, "but you're in my space." 

His space? The nerve of him. 

 "Last time I checked this was a shared dormitory."

Blaise didn't pause from removing his stationery out of his bag and Draco hated how much he wanted him to look at him in that moment. 

Blaise seemed content to ignore him and Draco swore he wouldn't play into his hands but dammit Blaise was pulling the same shit he was pulling on Potter and it was fucking working. 

 "Whatever," he said turning to go but Blaise spoke up. 

 "What's going on between you and Potter?" There was none of the jesting that had been in his voice earlier, Draco could feel the weight behind his words. 

 "None of your business, that's what," he replied scathingly. 

 "So why did you kiss him?"

Draco's hand curled around the handle. 

 "Can't I?"

He could feel Blaise's shrug. 

 "You can," he says slowly, looking at the window thoughtfully. "But now I owe Pansy ten galleons."

{HPDM}

 "Oh, hey Harry," Ginny said coming through the portrait hole looking flushed. She clearly hadn't been expecting to see anyone as she had greeted him with a startled gasp. 

Harry wondered why she hadn't been expecting to find anyone in the common room of all places. It was a Friday evening and everyone was looking to wind down after a long week. 

 "Hi. You alright?" he asked. 

 "Good," she said heading for the girls' dormitory. 

She stopped. 

 "Harry," she said walking back to where he was seated before the fire. "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded. 

 "Sure, go ahead."

He hadn't been doing much despite the pile of essays awaiting completion on a table to his left. He'd tried to do them but his mind had wandered too much and he'd decided to let it wander in peace until it was done, then he would give the essays another look. 

Ginny fiddled with her skirt as she sat down. 

 "What would you do if you liked someone but you were afraid of what others would say about it?"

Harry was hit by a sudden wave of deja vu. He almost thought Ginny knew something but dismissed the idea as soon as it came to mind- she couldn't know he had been having clandestine meetings with Malfoy regularly. She also couldn't know that Harry constantly thought of Malfoy and other things Malfoy-related. 

He was also trying to figure out why Ginny was asking him this. He had no doubt it had to do with Nott, which surprised him because he had thought Ginny already didn't care what anyone thought. 

 "I... This about you and Nott, right?" he asked anyway. 

She frowned at him. 

 "Does it matter who it's about?" she asked. 

Harry shook his head. 

 "No. I guess not."

She didn't say anything so he took that as his cue to continue. 

 "You should ignore what everyone else says," Harry said slowly. "If you feel it's right by you..."

 "Yeah," Ginny said nodding her head slowly. "I suppose you already know about me and Nott."

 "With all Ron's ranting, it'd be hard not to."

She smiled. 

 "He's nice," she said thoughtfully then seemed to rethink it. "Yeah he can be pompous, annoying and a right prick sometimes but other than that he's kinda nice."

Harry doubted this but didn't voice his opinion. Unlike Ron, Ginny's decision to date whoever she wanted didn't bother him. Her choices were her own and she would have to bear their responsibility. 

Harry didn't know what to say but he was spared from it because Ginny was speaking again. 

 "You're right though," she said. "It hardly matters what others think least of all my brother, the annoying-"

 "I'm sure Ron has his reasons," Harry said because Ron was trying to help Ginny, in his own way. 

 "You're saying you think he's right?"

 "No," Harry said tugging at his tie which was already as loose as it could get. "I'm just saying-"

 "It doesn't matter," she said clearly trying to avoid another argument between them. "Where did you disappear to anyway?"

 "What?" Harry asked confused. 

 "That night of the party. I didn't see you after that time on the dance floor," she said shifting her gaze from the fire and looking at him. 

 "Er... I left."

 "Immediately after?"

Harry swallowed down his guilt. 

 "Yeah. I was feeling pretty exhausted."

She smiled knowingly. 

 "Yeah? After just one dance?"

It was more than just one dance. It was more than Harry wanted to think about at the moment. Ginny seemed to notice this. 

 "Did you find out who invited you?"

 "No." There hadn't been an opportunity for that. 

She sighed sensing his reluctance to dwell on the topic. 

 "Okay. I need to get some work done so see you later."

Harry nodded and watched her head to the girls' dormitory. 

He couldn't stop his mind from going back to the night of the party, he couldn't stop thinking about how Malfoy looked at him. 

He couldn't stop thinking about it at all. 

The next morning, Harry made his way down the stairs to the Great Hall where breakfast was being served until noon. It was currently half past eleven and Harry had barely gotten a wink of sleep. He was not surprised to see that he was not the only one who had slept in. The great hall was full of people chatting animatedly over their breakfast. 

He couldn't see Hermione anywhere and supposed she had risen early to get some studying done. Ron was absent from the Gryffindor table too though Harry couldn't think why he would be. Ron was a heavy sleeper and usually it took several nudges and prods to wake him up every morning.

He distinctly remembered the bed next to his being empty. 

Harry sat down beside Neville who was yawning every five seconds and served himself some breakfast. Ron wouldn't miss a meal so if he wasn't here then Harry knew he had at least eaten breakfast. 

 "Morning," Neville said. 

 "Morning," Harry replied pouring some coffee into his cup. 

He didn't talk much but Neville seemed to loosen up the more he consumed so Harry let him talk and tried not to look at the Slytherin table. Not that it mattered because had he looked, he would have seen that Malfoy was absent. 

{HPDM}

 "Where have you been?" Pansy asked sitting down opposite him. 

 "What do you mean?"

 "You were gone the whole afternoon and you missed lunch."

Draco shrugged. 

He had been on the seventh floor again but he didn't want to dampen the mood with such talk so he continued writing his essay. 

 "And since when do you do Slughorn's essays with so much gusto?"

Draco didn't look up. 

 "I love potions," he said simply. 

Pansy groaned. 

 "Fine. I'm going out," she said getting up. 

Draco watched her leave, finally glad for the silence but before he could enjoy it, he felt someone approach. Stone didn't sit and Draco was sure he would have hexed him if he did. 

He raised an eyebrow and waited for him to speak, almost 100% sure what was coming and ready to gloat over it. 

 "Practice is in an hour."

 "Okay."

Stone lingered for a moment, unsure. 

 "You heard me, right?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. 

 "I'm not deaf, Stone."

 "Then why aren't you doing anything?"

Draco fingered his quill. "You said 'practice is in an hour'. I said 'okay'. What more do you want?"

Stone's hand gripped the table in anger and Draco wanted to smile because the slytherin captain was so easy to rile up he could do it all day. 

 "We need a seeker."

Draco shrugged and went back to his essay. 

 "Murray seems to be fitting in well."

Stone ground his teeth. 

 "Murray quit."

 "Oh?" he said in mock surprise. 

 "Stop being difficult, Draco."

 "Malfoy," he corrected sharply. "And if you intend to stand here and talk nonsense then I would rather you left."

 "I'm saying you're back on the team," Stone said. 

Draco sucked on the tip of his quill. 

 "And what if I don't want to be?"

Stone started to say something but the words died in his throat. "What?"

Draco wanted to smile. He was loving this. 

 "You're hard to put up with, Stone. I don't know if-"

 "Are you going to show up or not?" he demanded. 

Draco pretended to think about it. He run the tip of the quill under his chin and tapped the table. 

 "I'll have to think about it."

Draco didn't think about it long because in the end he loved Quidditch and an opportunity to annoy Stone was too fun to pass up. 

It wasn't raining but it was twice as cold as his last practice and his flying leathers did nothing to keep the cold out. 

 "Okay. We'll stick to the standard formation today. Everyone in the air."

Draco didn't say anything. The rest of the team were still a little shocked at Stone's decision to reinstate him as seeker but he was looking to burn some energy and he was not in the mood to talk so he got on his broom. 

{HPDM}

Harry shifted in his seat. 

He had been feeling on edge these past few weeks. He felt uncomfortable, too hot sometimes even though winter had started two weeks ago. 

 "Harry," Hermione said. 

He looked up from his untouched plate. 

 "Yes?"

 "Did you hear what I said?"

 "Er... no."

She sighed. 

 "Have you gotten any more letters from Lupin?"

Harry winced as he remembered the lie. 

 "I uh... no."

Ron looked at him oddly but did not comment. 

 "The Slytherin match is in three weeks. Any ideas?" he finally said when it was clear Hermione was not going to ask any more questions. 

Harry had been so lost in thinking about Malfoy and the Halloween party that he had forgotten about the Slytherin match, the real match and not the friendly. 

 "Well, Slytherin booked the pitch this week so maybe next week," he said though he got the impression Ron had wanted to talk strategy and not pitch-booking schedules. 

Ron chewed speculatively. 

 "I reckon we should scout their practices one of these days," Ron was saying but Harry wasn't really listening. 

The uncomfortable feeling was back and he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave but Hermione was watching him like a hawk and Ron seemed to be paying attention to his actions too so he forced himself to sit through supper and nod along to everything they said. 

 "Gryffindor Tower is this way," Hermione said pointing to the staircase once they had finished their supper. 

Harry realised with surprise that he had been headed in the opposite direction. 

 "I'll be right up, I need some air."

Ron nodded and Hermione eventually followed him up the stairs though she looked like she wanted to press the matter. 

Harry run a hand through his hair and sighed. He needed to sort things out and he needed to do it soon. He was a few paces from the large double doors when he heard loud voices approaching and he realised that he had forgotten Slytherin would be having Quidditch practice today. 

Well, it was a good thing they'd finished, he didn't fancy watching them fly. 

 "Well, will you look at that. It's the Boy Who Lived, all on his own," the captain Arthur Stone said when he spotted him. "Did your friends leave you alone like mommy and daddy?"

Harry clenched his fists. He just wanted to go to the bloody Quidditch pitch, was that too much to ask?

 "Fuck you," he said shoving past him but Stone's grip was firm on his shoulder as he pushed him back. 

 "Don't swear at me, half blood."

 "What's going on here?"

Harry's retort died on his lips as he heard that all too familiar voice and his eyes immediately found Malfoy. He was dressed in his Quidditch robes which confused Harry as last he'd heard Malfoy had been benched for the entire season. 

The small circle parted as Malfoy made his way to the front his broom in hand. 

He surveyed Harry for a long moment before turning to Stone questioningly. 

 "Potter here thought he could pull a fast one on us," Stone said with a sneer. 

Malfoy's dubious gaze shifted to Harry. 

 "Really. _Him?"_ he said with raised eyebrows. "On all eleven of you? Merlin, I thought you were better than that."

Stone's look of triumph and anticipation for Malfoy's insults slowly fell off his face. 

 "Wha- Are you serious?" he demanded. 

Malfoy's cutting gaze settled on him. 

 "Dead serious."

Stone grunted. "Whatever," he said then turned to Harry. "Watch your back, Potter."

 "You watch yours."

It wasn't particularly creative but Harry was still stunned from the encounter and could only watch as one by one the Slytherin team filed to the showers leaving only a blond seeker behind. 

 "I didn't need you to-" he started but Malfoy placed his index finger on his lips. 

Harry tried to ignore the fire spreading through his skin and resisted the urge to step back. 

 "No need to thank me, Potter."

The smug smile on his face only served to infuriate Harry even further. 

 "I'm not thanking you, Malfoy," he said fists still clenched. "I don't need you to fight my battles."

Malfoy laughed and withdrew his finger which until then had been burning into his lips. 

 "I was doing nothing of the sort, Potter," he said. "I couldn't have them thinking they could mess around with you." 

Then brought his index finger to his lips and licked it. 

{HPDM}

It shouldn't have made him blush, it shouldn't have made him toss and turn in bed. It shouldn't have made him wake up with a hard on for three days straight. 

 "Fuck," Harry muttered when his hand slipped. 

He was well aware that there were other people showering and he had to get to class in twenty minutes but his body did not understand. It didn't want food, it didn't want rest, it wanted release and Harry was trying to give it that but the pleasure was overriding his senses. 

It mingled with the hot air creating a heady mist that made him throw back his head as he stroked himself faster. 

Malfoy's blond hair flashed behind his eyelids and Harry could see his smug smirk curving his thin lips upward. 

 "Shit," he stammered pressing his back against the wall, breathing hard. _"Shit."_

He was going even faster now and he could feel heat pooling in his abdomen.

Malfoy licked his finger then his lips looking at Harry the entire time and he had to bite down on his arm to muffle his groan as he came all over the tiled floor. 

He stayed like that for a moment, pressed against the wall savouring the receding high until the sound of voices brought him out of his reverie. 

 "-having too much fun over there."

It sounded like Seamus and Dean laughed at the comment. 

 "Harry?" he heard then someone rustled the shower curtain. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing at his body. "Are you coming, we're going to have breakfast."

Dean sniggered loudly and Harry swore at the pair of them. 

{HPDM}

Harry didn't see much of Malfoy for the next three days and he was even more upset when Slughorn cancelled the Wednesday lesson and Hermione dragged Ron and himself to the library until supper. 

 "Merlin," Ron groaned as they made their way to the Great Hall for supper. "I'm so tired. Why couldn't we have enjoyed the free period like ordinary people?"

Hermione had spotted Ginny and gone over to talk to her so Ron was spared a cutting remark. Harry was just about to voice his agreement when something drew his gaze. 

 "Uh... I'll join you in a minute," he said pausing at the doors of the Great Hall. "I have to go to the washroom."

Ron nodded but he was already answering the siren call of hot food and an hour of kicking back. 

Harry rounded the corner and watched as Malfoy walked towards the hall with Zabini and Parkinson. He knew there was no way he would see him with his body half hidden by an alcove but he kept looking, hoping Malfoy would notice him. 

The blond looked around him, brow creased until his gaze settled on Harry and he smiled that slow smile that made his stomach flutter. 

He said something to Parkinson then watched as both his friends entered the Great Hall before sauntering over to where Harry was hidden. 

 "So, Potter," he drawled. "Here to thank me a-"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence because Harry grabbed him by the lapels of his robe and slammed his lips against his. 

 "Shut up, Malfoy," he growled. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me."

 _"With pleasure."_  
 


	16. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read. 
> 
> I would like to thank all readers of this story immensely for their love and support. Thank you so much for reading thus far. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I will be going on a short hiatus for a few weeks. I can't be sure how long but I assure you that when I return I will have several new chapters lined up for you. Life has gotten in the way at the moment and I need to sort everything out before I can come back to this. 
> 
> In the meantime, he's a short excerpt from the next chapter for you. 
> 
> Thank you once again, lovelies! Stay strong. 
> 
> lowkey_savage xx

Harry took a step back when his lungs began to burn. 

 "You've got to be kidding me," Malfoy said.  

Harry frowned, then it hit him. He'd just kissed Malfoy. He'd grabbed him and bloody kissed him. He took another shaky step back. 

 "I'm sorry. I don't know what-"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

 "Relax, Potter," he said. "The full moon is in a week."

 "So?"

Malfoy's sigh was long and drawn out. 

_"So,_ my instincts are all over the place and it's affecting you."

Harry was not sure he followed but Malfoy was smirking again. He forced Harry against the wall. 

 "I think I much prefer it this way," he said, wet lips glistening in the light. 

Malfoy followed Harry's gaze and chuckled. He leaned in close until Harry could smell his warm breath. 

 "You're so aggressive," Malfoy said. "Where did you learn that hmm?"

Harry wanted to protest, he wasn't really aggressive but he'd had so much pent up frustration and Malfoy looked so calm about everything... It wasn't fair, instincts or no, it felt like he was the only one bearing the brunt of this... thing between them. 

 "Are you going to get on with it or not?" Harry demanded. 

Malfoy's eyes flashed. 

 "So rude," he said licking his lips and then pressing them on Harry's. "I don't like it one bit."

But Harry could care less about that at the moment. He felt Malfoy's tongue glide over his lips and he parted them without a thought. Malfoy's tongue slid into his mouth and Harry nearly moaned at the feeling. 

He felt Malfoy shift as his hand came away from the wall and rested on his hip. 

Harry pulled him closer, his whole body was flaring up with need and Malfoy was bloody taking his time. Merlin, Harry didn't know he could get like this from a single kiss. He let a breathy sigh when Malfoy's tongue danced over his neck. 

It felt like something was being awoken inside him and he rolled his hips reflexively. 

 "Why does that... feel so... Shit."

 "Feels good, right?" Harry could barely respond so Malfoy did it again, dragging his teeth against his skin. 

_"Shit._ Don't... What is that?"

Malfoy pulled back with a satisfied smile. "It's your G-spot."

 "Stop messing around," Harry said still trying to catch his breath. He's not a girl so how can he have a G-spot? 

 "Not in the traditional sense. It's just highly sensitive."

 "I gathered," Harry said unamusedly. "But why?"

Malfoy stuffed his hands into his pockets and Harry got the sense there would be no more snogging tonight. 

 "Did you even look at the books I gave you?"

 "Just tell me already."

 "Until you're mated, your body will respond with... anticipation to any touch on that area."

Harry tried to crane his head to the side to see his neck but it was impossible so he settled for touching it instead. 

 "Did you-?"

 "Of course not."

Harry wasn't sure what that meant but Malfoy was looking in the direction of the Great Hall from where Harry realised he could hear laughter and shouts. Had it been that loud all along? Harry couldn't remember hearing a single thing. 

 "We should get back," Malfoy said. 

Harry tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. 

 "Yeah, I suppose we should..." he said fiddling with his school robes. 

He heard Malfoy groan then felt his head throb slightly when he was pushed against the wall again. 

 "What-?"

 "Just... don't do anything stupid," Malfoy said and Harry could tell something different had been about to leave his lips. "My shift is approaching soon and I'm not usually... in my right mind."

The he pulled away, turned from Harry and began fixing his hair. 

Harry wasn't sure what classified as 'stupid' but it was a vague warning and he figured Malfoy was giving him at least _some_ leeway. 


End file.
